LIBRARY 

OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

Class 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 


By  CLARA   E.  LAUGHLIN 

FELICITY 

WHEN  JOY  BEGINS 

DIVIDED 

MILADI 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  GIRL'S  IDEAL 

STORIES  OF  AUTHORS'  LOVES 

THE  LADY  IN  GRAY 


Copyright,  1891,  by  M.  P. 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 
'With  malice  toward  none,  with  charity  for  all. 


The  Death  of  Lincoln 


The  Story  of  Booth's  Plot,  His  Deed 
and  the  Penalty 

By 
CLARA    E.    LAUGHLIN 


Illustrated  from   Photographs 


New  York 

Doubleday,  Page  &  Company 
1909 


. 


ALL   RIGHTS    RESERVED,   INCLUDING   THAT   OF   TRANSLATION 
INTO    FOREIGN    LANGUAGES,   INCLUDING   THE   SCANDINAVIAN 


COPYRIGHT,    1909,    BY    DOUBLEDAY,    PAGE    &   COMPANY 
PUBLISHED,   JANUARY,    1909 


TO 
FRANCES    BENJAMIN    JOHNSTON 


225239 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


Part  One.       The  Plot                      . 
Part  Two.        Thf  TVpH 

3 
67 

PartT 

'hree.     The  Penalty       

119 

APPENDICES 

I. 

Feeling  Against  Lincoln       .... 

201 

II. 

Booth  in  Canada          ..... 

203 

III. 

Confederate  Complicity 

205 

IV. 

The  Leenea  Letters     

211 

V. 

Dr.  Mudd's  Statement        .... 

214 

VI. 

Rockville  Lecture  of  John  H.  Surratt  . 

222 

VII. 

The  Possibility  of  Capture  .... 

250 

VIII. 

John  Y.  Beall     

256 

IX. 

Lincoln's  Last  Journey      .... 

257 

X. 

Lincoln's  Last  Speech          .... 

259 

XI. 

Lincoln's  Forebodings  of  a  Tragic  Death    . 

262 

XII. 

Lincoln  and  the  Negro  Messenger     . 

266 

XIII. 

Dana  and  Thompson  

267 

XIV. 

Mr.  George  Ashmun   

269 

XV. 

"Our  American  Cousin"    .... 

270 

vii 

viii 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 


XVI.     Atzerodt's  Statement     .        .        .        .283 

XVII.     The  Trial  of  John  Surratt     .        .        .286 

XVIII.     Major  Rathbone's  Statement       .         .     289 

XIX.     Harry  Hawk's  Account        .        .         .293 

XX.     Affidavit  of  Miss  Harris      .         .         .294 

XXI.     Booth  in  Boston 296 

XXII.     Letter  of  William  T.  Clark    .        .        .298 

XXIII.  Despatches  of  the  Night      .         .         .301 

XXIV.  Statement  of  Mr.  Field,  Assistant  Secre 

tary  of  the  Treasury      .         .         .303 
XXV.     Southern  Horror  of  Booth's  Deed  .         .     309 

XXVI.     The   Awards 312 

XXVII.     Trial  Attendance 316 

XXVIII.     Spangler's  Statement     ....     317 
XXIX.     Mrs.  Surratt  and  John  Nothey     .         .     322 

XXX.     John  P.  Brophy 324 

XXXI.     The  Holt-Johnson  Controversy     .         .     327 
XXXII.     Johnson's  Order  for  the  Execution  of 
Payne,  Atzerodt,  Herold,  and  Mrs. 

Surratt 332 

XXXIII.      Johnson's  Remark  About  "The  Nest 

that  Hatched  the  Egg"    .         .         .333 
XXXIV.     Johnson's    Denial    of    Habeas    Corpus 

Writ  to  Mrs.  Surratt  335 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Abraham  Lincoln Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Map  Showing   the  Routes   of  Proposed   Abduction  of 

Lincoln  and   Actual   Flight   of   Booth  ....          4 

John  Wilkes  Booth    .  .        .        .        .        .     j  .        .         6 

The  National  Hotel,  Washington,  D.  C.       .        .     '  .        ,       28 

Ford's  Theatre,  Washington,  D.  C 50 

Mrs.  Abraham  Lincoln     .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .       74 

Play  Bill  of  Ford's  Theatre ,78 

Laura  Keene      .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .     '  .        .       90 

Abraham  Lincoln  about  1865          .        .        .        .        .        .       92 

Contemporary  Print  of  the  Assassination  of  Lincoln  .        .        96 

Lincoln  and  His  Son,  Tad 104 

The  Death  of  Abraham  Lincoln     .        ,       .        .        .        .114 

The  House  in  which  Lincoln  Died 120 

The  Alley  Behind  Ford's  Theatre 122 

Lincoln's  House  at  Springfield,  111.,  Draped  at  Time  of 

His  Death 126 

Lincoln's  Funeral  Car  and  Hearse  130 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

P  \GE 

New  York  City  Hall  when  Lincoln's  Body  Lay  There  in 

State 134 

Contemporary  Print  of  General  U.  S.  Grant  at  the  Tempo 
rary  Tomb  of  Abraham  Lincoln 140 

The  Lincoln  Monument  at  Springfield,  111.          .        .        .      144 

Catacomb  and  Sarcophagus 144 

Booth's  Escape 150 

The  Capture  and  Death  of  Booth  .        .        .  .        .150 

Boston  Corbett 152 

The  Military  Court  that  Tried  the  Assassins  .  .  .172 
Four  Conspirators  Who  Were  Hanged  .  .  .  .190 
Four  Conspirators  Who  Were  Not  Hanged  .  .  .192 
Execution  of  the  Four  Conspirators 194 


PART   I 

THE   PLOT 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 


THE  PLOT 

A  BOUT  the  twelfth  of  September,  1864,  a  young  man 
•*•*•  helping  to  thresh  wheat  in  a  field  near  Hookstown, 
Maryland,  had  a  letter  brought  to  him.  In  it  was  either 
a  twenty-dollar  or  a  fifty-dollar  bill.1  After  reading  the 
letter  and  pocketing  the  money,  the  young  man  remarked 
laughingly,  but  not  without  a  bit  of  swaggering  importance, 
that  he  was  "flush,"  and  that  something  big  would  be 
heard  of  one  of  these  days. 

It  was!  The  young  man  was  in  "a  plot"  which  at  that 
time  would  have  seemed  to  any  sober-minded  person  who 
might  have  known  of  it  about  as  serious  as  the  back-lot 

1  "  The  Assassination"©!  President  Lincoln,  and  the  Trial  of  the  Conspirators,"  com 
piled  and  arranged  by  Benn  Pitman,  Recorder  to  the  Military  Commission.  Pub 
lished  by  Moore,  Wilstach  &  Baldwin,  Cincinnati  and  New  York,  1865.  The  Pitman 
record  of  the  Conspiracy  Trial  is  the  one  hereinafter  referred  to,  as  that  to  which 
most  persons  have  access.  The  record  made  for  the  Philadelphia  Inquirer  and  pub 
lished  by  T.  B.  Peterson,  Philadelphia,  In  1865,  and  the  report  made  for  the  Associated 
Press  and  published  by  Barclay  &  Co.,  Philadelphia,  1865,  are  "unedited"  by  the  Bureau 
of  Military  Justice,  and  show  some  sharp  discrepancies  from  the  Pitman  version;  but 
for  the  reason  that  they  are  not  everywhere  available  they  have  not  been  made  the  basis 
of  most  of  these  citations.  For  authority  on  Samuel  Arnold's  letter,  and  its  enclosure, 
see  the  testimony  of  Littleton  P.  D.  Newman,  Conspiracy  Trial,  page  239. 

3 


4  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

plottings  of  exuberant  boys  bent  on  the  extermination  of 
Indians;  it  was  a  plot  to  kidnap  the  President  of  the 
United  States  and  hold  him  for  a  ransom.  Nobody  knows 
how  nearly  the  absurd  plot  came  to  accomplishment,  but 
all  the  world  has  heard  of  the  conspiracy  which  resulted 
in  the  death  of  Lincoln.  The  young  man  who  got  that 
letter  was  sufficiently  connected  with  the  President's  death 
to  pay  a  hideous  penalty  for  it.  Just  how  he  and  his 
fellows  came  into  their  connection  with  the  great  tragedy 
of  the  nation  we  shall  now  try  to  see. 

The  young  man's  name  was  Samuel  Arnold,  and  he 
had  been  a  soldier  in  the  Confederate  Army.  After  a  long 
illness,  however,  he  did  not  return  to  the  service,  but  stayed 
with  his  people  in  and  near  Baltimore.  Sam  was  a  clerk 
when  he  could  get  clerical  work  to  do,  but  either  the  times 
were  bad  for  obtaining  work  of  that  sort  or  Sam  was  bad  at 
finding  it,  for  in  the  summer  of  '64  he  was  unemployed 
except  for  the  desultory  help  he  gave  a  farmer-brother 
near  Hookstown. 

Early  in  September,  Sam  and  two  old  schoolmates  of 
his  had  met  at  Barnum's  Hotel  in  Baltimore.1  One  of  the 
schoolmates  was  a  small,  quiet,  rather  delicate-looking 
young  man,  with  thick  black  hair,  heavy  black  moustache, 

1  Arnold's  statement  to  Eaton  G.  Horner  C.  T.  p.  235.  It  was  written  and  delivered 
by  William  McPhail  to  Stanton  (C.  T.  p.  236),  who  did  not  allow  it  to  be  put  in 
evidence. 


MAP 

Showing  the  Routes 

of Proposed JJb duct  fan  ofLinco/n 

and  Actual  F/tgftt  ofJSooth 


VIRGINIA 


•  '/inacostia, 

Upper  %  Marlboro 


Cox  (hidden  ) 

'MARYLAND 


INDEX: 

F  =  FordX  Theatre 

S  =  Soldieri  Home 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  5 

a  small  black  imperial,  and  nervous  black  eyes  that  often 
looked  sad.  He,  also,  had  been  a  Confederate  soldier, 
but  had  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  in  June,  1863,  and 
since  then  had  been  in  the  feed  and  produce  business  with 
his  brother  William,  in  Baltimore  and  Washington.  His 
name  was  Michael  O'Laughlin. 

The  third  of  these  young  fellows,  who  had  been  close 
friends  for  a  dozen  years  or  more  —  ever  since  their  little- 
boy  days  —  was  grown  quite  out  of  the  class  of  the  other 
two.  He  was  brilliantly  beautiful,  very  talented,  very  suc 
cessful,  very  much  sought  after.1  Although  barely  twenty- 
six  years  old,  he  had  an  income  from  his  profession  of  about 
twenty  thousand  dollars  a  year.  He  was  tall  and  full  of 
slender  grace;  his  features  were  classic  in  their  perfectness; 
his  big  black  eyes  were  teasing,  tender,  laughing,  bewitch 
ing;  a  crown  of  slightly  curling  jet-black  hair  was  worn 
pushed  boyishly  back  from  a  brow  of  rare  intellectual  and 
physical  beauty.  He  was  elegant  in  his  dress,  blithe  and 
winsome  in  his  manner.  Indeed,  he  was  only  too  winsome 
— too  easy  to  love  and  too  hard  to  scold;  too  quick  to  charm 
and  too  charming  to  be  judged.  He  was  generous  and  kind, 
affectionate  and  gay.  His  name  was  John  Wilkes  Booth. 

1  During  a  successful  engagement  of  John  W.  Booth's  in  Boston,  "women  of  all  ages, 
and  degrees  pressed  in  crowds  before  the  Tremont  House  to  see  him  depart."  "  Life 
of  J.  W.  Booth,"  by  George  Alfred  Townsend,  published  by  Dick  and  Fitzgerald,  New 
York,  1866,  p.  24. 


6  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

John,  the  youngest  but  one  of  the  ten  children  born  to 
the  celebrated  tragedian,  Junius  Brutus  Booth  and  his 
wife,  Mary  Ann,  was  named  for  his  paternal  great-grand 
mother's  cousin,  John  Wilkes,  parliamentarian,  lord 
mayor  of  London,  and  political  agitator.  Junius  Brutus 
the  elder  died  in  1852.  He  acted  up  to  the  very  last,  and 
died  on  tour  in  the  West,  but  for  years  before  his  death  his 
great  mind  had  been  unbalanced  by  his  intemperate  habits, 
so  that  the  only  father  little  John  Booth  ever  knew  was  a 
madman,  the  wreck  of  a  splendid  genius,  a  lovable 
personality. 

Of  the  six  children  who  survived  their  father,  three 
became  famous  members  of  his  profession,  but  John 
Wilkes  was  universally  considered  the  most  gifted  of  the 
family,  though  a  severe  bronchial  affection  threatened  his 
voice  and,  consequently,  his  future  on  the  stage.  He  was 
the  idol  of  his  mother's  heart  and  was,  in  turn,  exceedingly 
fond  of  her  —  so  fond  that  he  made  her  a  promise  it  was 
very  hard  for  him  to  keep :  a  promise  that  he  would  never 
take  up  arms  against  the  Union  she  and  all  her  other 
children  stanchly  upheld. 

John  had  spent  the  happiest,  most  impressionable  years 
of  his  young  professional  life  in  the  South,  notably  at 
Richmond,  Virginia,  where  he  was  a  member  of  John  T. 
Ford's  stock  company  and  a  warm  favourite  in  and  out  of 


Collection  of  Americana,  F.  H.  Meserve. 

JOHN  WILKES  BOOTH 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  7 

the  theatre.  In  1859  he  had  been  a  volunteer  soldier  and 
did  his  part  to  put  down  treason  by  standing  guard  at  the 
foot  of  the  scaffold  whereon  John  Brown  was  hanged. 
Four  years  later  the  Government  that  had  put  Brown  to 
death  for  attempting  to  free  the  slaves  made  a  new  defini 
tion  of  treason :  made  it  treasonable  to  resist  the  freeing 
of  the  slaves.  John  Booth  did  not  accept  the  new  defini 
tion.  For  him,  despite  the  tears  and  protests  of  his  family, 
right  remained  with  the  South;  and  although  he  had 
promised  his  dear  mother  he  would  not  take  up  arms 
against  the  Union,  John  did  not  try  to  stifle  his  passionate 
sympathy  with  the  Southern  cause,  his  burning  ardour  to 
do  something  toward  its  success. 

In  Barnum's  Hotel,  Baltimore,  that  September  day  in 
'64,  the  three  young  men  talked  of  the  war  and  soberly 
discussed  the  repeated  reverses  of  the  Confederate  armies, 
the  steady  swelling  of  Northern  prisons  with  thousands 
upon  thousands  of  Southern  prisoners.1 

It  was  then  that  John  unfolded  a  stupendous  scheme. 
So  far  as  we  know,  he  had  conceived  it  quite  recently  and 
had  not  mentioned  it  to  any  one  until  that  day.  It  was  a 
plan  to  seize  the  President  of  the  United  States,  hurry  him 
out  of  Washington,  down  through  intensely  disloyal 
counties  of  Maryland  to  the  Potomac,  ferry  him  across  into 

1  See  Appendix  I:  Feeling  about  Lincoln  in  the  North. 


8  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Virginia,  and  carry  him  to  Richmond,  there  to  turn  him 
over  to  the  Confederate  authorities  to  be  held  on  their 
own  terms  —  either  the  termination  of  the  war,  or  the 
exchange  of  one  President  for  all  Southern  prisoners  held 
by  the  North. 

The  two  young  men  to  whom  this  wild  scheme  was 
unfolded,  and  who  were  then  and  thereupon  invited  to 
become  party  to  it,  must  have  gasped  at  its  audacity.  But 
John  explained  how  easy  it  would  be.  The  President  was 
impatient  of  being  guarded,  and  often  went  about  Washing 
ton  unattended  or  with  a  single  guard.  It  would  be  the 
easiest  thing  in  the  world  for  three  or  four  fellows  to  seize 
him  —  say  on  one  of  his  visits  to  the  Soldiers'  Home,  out 
Seventh  Street  —  thrust  him  into  a  closed  carriage,  drive 
rapidly  into  Maryland,  and  hasten  to  Richmond.  Or,  the 
capture  might  be  made  on  one  of  his  returns,  unguarded, 
from  the  War  Office  to  the  White  House,  late  at  night. 
If  seized  then,  he  could  be  hurried  down  through  the 
gardens  of  the  WThite  House  to  an  old  house  on  Seventeenth 
Street  near  the  confluence  of  the  Tyber  and  Potomac  rivers. 
This  house,  built  in  1820,  had  a  cellar,  reached  by  a  trap 
door,  which  was  once  used  for  a  slave  prison.  There 
were  "two  acres  of  grounds  around  the  house,  filled  with 
high  trees  and  close  shrubbery,  and  a  high  brick  wall  along 
the  street,  and  any  cries  from  it  would  be  effectually 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  9 

drowned  long  before  reaching  the  street."1  Even  the 
President  of  the  United  States,  it  seemed,  might  have  been 
held  prisoner  there,  close  under  the  shadow  of  the  White 
House,  and  spirited  thence  when  opportunity  offered.  It 
was  a  daring  plan,  of  course.  But  think  of  the  glory  there 
would  be  in  it!  It  would  probably  end  this  hideously 
bloody  war;  and  when  the  grateful  Confederacy  found 
itself  victorious,  there  would  surely  be  handsome  rewards 
for  the  brave  boys  who  had  saved  it.  John  was  eloquent, 
enthusiastic,  seemed  to  understand  the  situation  thor 
oughly;  of  course  the  other  boys  "joined."  And  of  course, 
after  that,  Sam  Arnold  was  less  and  less  inclined  to  look 
for  steady  employment  and  more  and  more  disturbingly 
given  to  talk  of  certain  "prospects"  about  which  he  was 
mysteriously  vague.  The  money  in  his  letter  of  a  week 
later  was  doubtless  from  his  friend  John,  in  consideration 
of  Sam's  temporary  need  while  great  fortune  awaited  him. 
On  the  twenty-seventh  of  September  John  went  to 
Franklin,  in  the  oil  region  of  Pennsylvania,  where  he  had 
invested  six  thousand  dollars.8  Every  young  man  in  those 
days  speculated  in  oil.  A  few  "struck  it  rich,"  most  of 
them  sunk  their  money  in  wells  and  got  nothing  out  but 
experience.  John  was  one  of  the  latter.  For  nine  or  ten 

1  The  trial  of  the  assassins,  as  reported   for  the   Philadelphia  Daily  Inquirer    and 
published  by  T.  B.  Peterson  and  Brothers,  Philadelphia,  1865,  p.  17. 
a  C.  T.  p.  45,  Joseph  H.  Simonds. 


10  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

months  he  had  been  dabbling  in  oil,  but  now  he  was 
determined  to  stop;  so  he  closed  up  his  interests  by  con 
veying  part  of  his  land  to  his  brother,  Junius  Brutus,  and 
part  to  his  business  agent,  Joseph  H.  Simonds. 

Just  a  month  later  John  was  in  Montreal.  A  great 
deal  of  testimony  offered  at  the  trial  of  his  fellow-con 
spirators  in  May,  '65,  in  the  effort  to  prove  Confederate 
complicity  in  the  murder  of  President  Lincoln,  made  it 
appear  that  John  Booth,  John  Surratt,  Lewis  Payne, 
Davy  Herold,  spent  much  of  the  fall  and  winter  of  '64-'65 
in  Montreal.  But  there  is  no  reliable  evidence  that  Booth 
was  there  after  October1  —  the  register  of  St.  Lawrence 
Hall  does  not  once  contain  his  name  after  that  date  —  and 
neither  is  there  reliable  evidence  that  any  of  the  other 
conspirators  was  there  at  all,  except  John  Surratt,  who 
went  there  in  April. 

St.  Lawrence  Hall  was  then  the  leading  hotel  of  Montreal 
and  was,  as  such,  liberally  patronized  by  actors  and  by 
those  prominent  Southerners  who,  by  their  authorized 
activity  in  the  Confederate  cause,  were  known  as  the 
"Canada  Cabinet"  of  the  Confederacy.  John  Booth 
knew  these  men  well,  naturally;  they  had  many  sympathies 
in  common.  His  conversations  with  some  of  them  were 
excitably  described  at  the  time  of  the  conspirators'  trial 

1  See  Appendix  II:  Note  summarizing  evidence  about  Booth  in  Canada. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  11 

as  "confidential,"  but  whatever  the  confidence  may  have 
been  about  there  is  not  a  scintilla  of  reliable  evidence 
that  it  had  anything  to  do  with  a  plot  against  President 
Lincoln.1 

If  the  men  of  the  Canada  Cabinet  listened  to  John 
Booth's  plans  for  the  release  of  the  Southern  prisoners, 
they  evidently  told  him  nothing  of  their  own  plans  to  the 
same  end.  They  and  the  "Sons  of  Liberty"  (a  secret 
organization  of  Northern  Democrats  who  hated  the  war 
and  urged  resistance  to  the  draft)  had  conspired  to  make 
a  raid  on  Camp  Douglas  in  Chicago,  where  nearly  nine 
thousand  rebels  were  imprisoned.  This  raid  was  to  have 
occurred  on  the  twenty-ninth  of  August,  the  day  of  the 
assembling  in  Chicago  of  the  National  Democratic  Con 
vention.  That  plan  had  come  to  nothing,  owing  to  the 
Government  having  been  forewarned.  But  on  the  night 
of  Election  Day  there  was  to  be  an  attack  made  on  Camp 
Douglas,  the  intent  being  to  release  and  arm  the  prisoners, 
"cut  the  telegraph  wires,  burn  the  railroad  depots,  seize 
the  banks  and  stores  containing  arms  and  ammunition, 
take  possession  of  the  city,  and  commence  a  campaign  for 
the  release  of  other  prisoners  of  war  in  Illinois  and 
Indiana."1  This,  if  successful,  would  rather  have  fore- 

1  See    Appendix  III:     Note    on    Southern    complicity. 

2  Official  Records  of  the  Union  and  Confederate  Armies,  Series  I,  vol.  xxxix,  part 
iii,  p.  698;  vol.  xlv,  part  i,  p.  1078. 


12  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

stalled  John's  little  plan,  but  it,  too,  fell  through  because 
word  of  it  had  "leaked"  and  the  Government  was 
prepared.  The  Confederacy's  Canada  Cabinet  —  or  part 
of  it,  at  least  —  had  other  plans,  too,  for  ending  the 
war  in  November,  '64,  of  which  John  Booth  does 
not  seem  to  have  been  appraised.  But  of  those,  more 
presently. 

In  October,  John  was  in  Montreal.  We  know  that  for 
a  certainty  because  on  the  twenty-seventh  he  bought  at  the 
Ontario  Bank  of  Montreal  a  bill  of  exchange  on  Messrs. 
Glyn,  Mills  &  Co.,  London,  England,  for  sixty-one 
pounds  twelve  shillings  and  ten  pence  sterling.  This 
left  him  a  balance  of  four  hundred  and  fifty-five  dollars  in 
the  bank,  where  he  kept  a  small  account.  He  told  the 
teller  of  the  Ontario  Bank,  when  he  bought  the  bill  of 
exchange,  that  he  was  going  to  run  the  blockade.1  He 
never  ran  it,  the  bill  of  exchange  was  found  on  him  when  he 
died,  just  six  months  later,  and  the  four  hundred  and  fifty- 
five  dollars  were  still  to  his  credit,  untouched.  What  he 
seems  to  have  been  providing  against  was  the  possibility 
of  the  Confederate  Government  refusing  to  take  advan 
tage  of  his  "capture"  and  his  having  to  flee  to  the  British 
West  Indies  or  to  Europe. 

John  was  a  favourite  in  Montreal  and  always  had  a  good 

1  C.  T.  p.  46,  Robert  Anson  Campbell;  p.  93,  Everton  J.  Conger. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  13 

time  there.  When  he  played  in  the  old  Theatre  Royal 
on  Cote  Street,  he  used  to  hurry  away  from  the  theatre 
after  the  performance,  and  make  all  possible  haste  back 
to  St.  Lawrence  Hall,  where  he  always  found  a  little 
crowd  of  good  fellows  waiting  for  him.  The  billiard-room 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  was  run  by  Joe  Dion,  the  champion 
billiardist  of  America,  and  evening  after  evening  he  and 
John  Booth  were  wont  to  play  before  an  enthusiastic  little 
"gallery"  of  newspaper  men,  actors,  and  men  about  town.1 
The  Southern  gentleman  is  usually  a  good  billiard  player, 
and  without  doubt  the  "Canada  Cabinet"  contributed  to 
the  "gallery"  on  nearly  every  occasion.  If  "conspiring" 
was  done,  it  must  have  been  in  two  rival  camps,  curiously 
at  cross  purposes. 

Where  John  Booth  was  on  Election  Day,  November  8th, 
we  do  not  know,  but  on  the  evening  of  the  next  day  he 
arrived  in  Washington  and  registered  at  the  National  Hotel 
on  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  not  far  from  the  Capitol.  He 
must  have  been  brimming  full  of  bitterness  that  day  over 
the  news  of  Lincoln's  re-election,  but  if  he  so  expressed  him 
self  to  any  one  we  do  not  know  it.  He  was  universally 
known  as  a  Southern  sympathizer,  but  even  to  his  closest 
associates,  with  the  exception  of  those  few  he  took  into  his 
plans,  he  seems  never  to  have  delivered  himself  of  any 

1  Told  the  present  writer  by  Mr.  William  Jarvis  of  the  Montreal  Star,  who  was 
usually  present  at  these  games. 


14  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

sentiments  which  prepared  them  in  the  least  degree  for 
the  awful  deed  his  plotting  finally  led  him  to. 

It  was  probably  on  Saturday,  the  twelfth  of  November, 
that  John  went  down  into  Charles  County,  Maryland,  with 
a  letter  of  introduction  to  a  Dr.  Queen  living  there.  Dr. 
Queen's  son-in-law,  when  examined  about  it  months  after 
ward,  thought  that  the  letter  was  from  a  man  in  Montreal 
named  Martin.  No  one  was  able  to  remember  the  exact 
date  of  that  fateful  visit  to  Charles  County,  but  every  one 
agreed  that  it  was  early  in  November.  We  know  that 
John  was  there  Saturday  —  in  part,  at  least  —  and  Sunday 
and  Monday  morning.  And  we  know  that  he  left  the 
National  Hotel  early  on  Friday  morning,  the  eleventh,  and 
returned  early  Monday  evening.1  If  he  had  lived  to  be 
tried  for  the  outcome  of  his  plotting,  the  date  of  that  first 
visit  to  Charles  County  would  have  been  of  sensational 
importance.  Even  as  it  is,  the  date  was  crucial,  as  we  shall 
see.2  John  may  have  gone  to  Baltimore  on  Friday,  or  he 
may  have  been  "prospecting  around"  in  other  parts  of 
Charles  and  Prince  George  counties  before  hunting  up 
Dr.  Queen.  Somewhere  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Dr. 
Queen's  house,  John  seems  to  have  encountered  the 
doctor's  son,  Joseph  Queen,  who  took  the  stranger  home.1 

'C.  T.  p.  46,  G.  W.  Bunker. 

3  See  Appendix  IV.  Note  on  the  "Leenea"  letters. 

»  C.  T.  p.  178,  John  C.  Thompson. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  15 

After  John's  letter  had  been  presented  and  he  had  been 
introduced  to  the  members  of  Dr.  Queen's  family,  he  told 
them  he  was  in  Maryland  looking  over  farm  lands  with  a 
view  to  purchase.  He  asked,  also,  about  horses  for  sale 
in  that  neighbourhood. 

The  Queens  liked  him,  of  course;  everybody  liked  him. 
And  they  asked  him  to  stay  with  them  over  Sunday.  He 
accepted,  and  on  Sunday  morning  went  to  church  with 
them.  In  the  dooryard  of  the  little  country  church  — 
St.  Mary's  Catholic  Church,  near  Bryantown  —  they  met 
a  neighbour  of  the  Queens',  Dr.  Samuel  A.  Mudd,  a  young 
physician  and  a  member  of  one  of  the  prominent  families 
of  the  county.  Mr.  John  C.  Thompson,  Dr.  Queen's 
son-in-law,  introduced  their  guest  to  Dr.  Mudd.  It  was 
a  fateful  meeting  for  the  young  physician.  John  —  whose 
beauty  and  fame  created  quite  a  stir  in  the  little  congre 
gation  —  asked  Dr.  Mudd  if  he  knew  of  any  one  who  had 
a  good  riding-horse  for  sale;  and  Dr.  Mudd  replied  that 
his  next  neighbour,  George  Gardiner,  had  one,  which  he 
offered  to  take  Mr.  Booth  to  see.1  John  accepted,  and  on 
Sunday  evening,  just  after  the  family  and  guests  of  Dr. 
Mudd  had  finished  supper,  John  arrived  from  Dr.  Queen's 
house,  seven  or  eight  miles  away.  Mrs.  Mudd  hospitably 
got  a  special  supper  for  Mr.  Booth  —  who  doubtless  pro- 

1 C.  T.  p.  71.  Thomas  L.  Gardiner. 


16  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

tested  very  charmingly  at  the  trouble  he  was  making  — 
and  after  he  had  eaten,  John  joined  the  family  circle  in 
the  parlour  and  remained  there  in  general  conversation 
until  bedtime.1  He  stayed  at  Dr.  Mudd's  that  night^ 
and  after  breakfast  the  next  morning,  host  and  guest  went 
over  to  Squire  Gardiner's,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  John 
asked  the  squire  for  a  good  driving-horse,  saying  he  desired 
to  go  about  the  country  in  a  buggy  and  look  at  land.  But 
Gardiner  had  only  one  good  driving-horse,  and  that  he 
would  not  part  with.  He  had,  though,  a  fairly  good  saddle- 
horse,  a  large,  dark  bay,  blind  of  one  eye,  which  he  would 
sell  at  a  bargain.  John  bought  that,  saying  it  would  do, 
as  he  would  need  it  for  only  a  short  time,  anyway.1  The 
horse  was  delivered  to  him  at  Bryantown  that  afternoon, 
and  he  may  have  ridden  it  into  Washington,  or  he  may  not; 
we  do  not  know  anything  more  about  that  one-eyed  horse 
until  January,  when  we  have  trace  of  it  in  a  livery  stable  on 
Sixth  Street,  Washington. 

On  Wednesday,  the  sixteenth  of  November,  John  went 
to  New  York,  where  he  remained  for  nearly  a  month.1 
Edwin  Booth  and  his  brother-in-law,  John  Sleeper 
Clarke,  the  eminent  comedian  who  married  Asia  Booth, 

1  "The  Life  of  Dr.  Samuel  A.  Mudd,"  edited  by  his  daughter,  Miss  Nettie  Mudd, 
published  by  the  Neale  Publishing  Company,  New  York  and  Washington,  1906,  p.  29, 
Mrs.  Mudd's   statement. 

2  C.  T.  p.  71,  Thomas  L.  Gardiner. 

3  C.  T.  p.  46,  Bunker,  also  p.  44,  Samuel  K.  Chester. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  17 

were  then  in  the  second  season  of  their  joint  management 
of  the  Winter  Garden  Theatre  on  Broadway,  opposite 
Bond  Street.  Clarke  was  playing  his  engagement  there 
in  the  early  fall,  and  Edwin  was  preparing  his  notable 
version  of  "Hamlet,"  with  which  he  was  to  open  his  season 
on  November  26th.  On  Friday  evening,  November 
25th,  Edwin  Booth  gave  a  performance  for  the  benefit 
of  the  fund  to  raise  a  statue  of  Shakespeare  in  Central  Park. 
The  play  selected  was  "  Julius  Csesar,"  and  announce 
ments  of  the  event  promised  that  "the  evening  will  be 
made  memorable  by  the  appearance  in  the  same  piece 
of  the  three  sons  of  the  great  Booth,  Junius  Brutus, 
Edwin,  and  John  Wilkes."  Junius  Brutus  appeared 
as  Cassius,  Edwin  as  Brutus,  and  John  Wilkes  as  Marc 
Antony.  It  was,  so  far  as  is  known,  the  only  occasion 
on  which  the  three  brothers  ever  appeared  together, 
and  their  proud  mother  watched  them  from  a  stage 
box.1 

She  was  a  happy  mother,  just  then,  for  she  was  seeing 
more  of  her  children  than  at  almost  any  other  time  since 
they  were  all  too  little  to  leave  her. 

During  the  performance  there  was  a  cry  of  fire,  smoke 
began  to  fill  the  theatre,  and  the  pleading  of  Edwin  barely 
averted  a  panic  in  the  audience  of  three  thousand  persons 

1  "  Life  of  Edwin  Booth,"  by  William  Winter,  published  by  the  Macmfflan  Company, 
New  York,  1894,  p.  34. 


18  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

or  more.1  The  Winter  Garden  was  not  on  fire,  but  the 
Lafarge  House,  next  door,  was.  It  was  one  of  the  centres 
of  a  vast  incendiary  plot  to  burn  New  York  City.  The 
Astor  House,  the  Fifth  Avenue,  Metropolitan,  St.  Nicholas, 
United  States,  Everett,  Lafarge,  Howard,  Hanaford, 
Belmont,  New  England,  St.  James,  and  Tammany 
hotels,  and  Barnum's  Museum,  were  prepared  for  destruc 
tion  with  phosphorus  and  turpentine,  but  the  fires  were, 
happily,  soon  put  out.  Months  afterward,  John  Booth 
must  needs  be  charged  with  complicity  in  this  atrocious 
business  —  charged  with  bringing  fire  and  hideous  death 
upon  the  building  where  his  idolized  old  mother  sat 
beaming  with  pride  and  happiness  on  her  three  gifted 
boys  —  but  he  might  as  justifiably  be  charged  with  the 
burning  of  Rome  while  Nero  fiddled.  What  is,  however, 
unhappily  almost  beyond  doubt,  is  the  guilt  of  Jacob 
Thompson,  of  Mississippi,  who  had  been  Secretary  of 
the  Interior  in  Buchanan's  Cabinet,  and  was  the  Con 
federacy's  most  active  agent  at  large.  In  a  letter  of 
December  3rd  to  J.  P,  Benjamin,  Confederate  Secretary 
of  War,  Thompson  lamented  the  failure  to  burn  New 
York  and  admitted  his  complicity  in  the  attempt.  Thomp 
son  may  have  argued  that  this  was  in  retaliation  for  the 
Dahlgren  affair;  but  if  Colonel  Ulric  Dahlgren,  who 

1  O.  R.  Series  i,  vol.  xliii,  part  ii,  p.  934. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  19 

was  killed  in  command  of  a  detachment  of  cavalry  in  an 
unsuccessful  raid  on  Richmond,  March  4,  '64,  had  any 
high  Federal  authority  for  his  plan,  as  outlined  in  papers 
found  on  him,  to  "release  the  Federal  prisoners  on  Belle 
Isle  and  in  Richmond,  and  furnish  them  with  oakum  and 
turpentine  to  burn  'the  hateful  city,'  while  his  own  men 
were  employed  in  killing  Jefferson  Davis  and  his  Cab 
inet,"  there  is  no  proof  of  it;  and  one  can  only  feel  that 
to  Davis  and  Lee,  and  the  real  leaders  of  the  Confederacy, 
the  contemplated  deed  of  November  25th,  in  New  York, 
was  as  "barbarous  and  inhuman  a  plot"  as  Lee  charac 
terized  Dahlgren's.1  No  sane  historian  of  to-day  believes 
that  the  leaders  of  either  side  were  capable  of  such  bar 
barian  warfare;  but  then,  in  the  heat  of  war,  men  believed 
anything  of  other  men  opposing  them.  New  York  was 
a  wildly  excited  city  on  the  morning  of  November  26th, 
and  the  position  of  John  Booth  in  his  intensely  loyal 
household  could  not  have  been  a  pleasant  one  at  break 
fast  that  day.  As  a  rule,  politics  were  tabooed  in  Edwin's 
house  when  John  was  there,  but  it  is  hardly  likely  that 
the  news  of  that  morning  passed  without  comment; 
that  the  Southerners  were  not  charged  with  plotting,  and 
that  John  indignantly  denied  it.  This  we  may  surmise, 
but  all  we  know  of  the  political  talk  between  the  brothers 

1  "History  of  the  United  States  from  the  Compromise  of  1850,"  by  James  Ford  Rhodes, 
published  by  the  Macmillan  Company,  New  York,  vol.  v,  pp.  514,  515. 


20  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

during  that  visit  is  that  Edwin  told  John  he  had  voted 
for  Lincoln's  re-election,  and  John  said  he  feared  that 
Lincoln  —  probably  in  the  event  of  the  war's  successful 
termination  —  would  be  made  "King  of  America."1 

What  John  could  not  say  he  wrote.  Some  time  during 
his  stay  in  New  York  he  wrote  a  long  letter,  which  he 
left  for  safe  keeping  with  his  brother-in-law,  John  Sleeper 
Clarke: 

-, ,  1864. 

MY  DEAR  SIR:  You  may  use  this  as  you  think  best. 
But  as  some  may  wish  to  know  when,  who  and  why,  and 
as  I  know  not  how  to  direct,  I  give  it  (in  the  words  of 
your  master)  "  To  whom  it  may  concern'1: 

Right  or  wrong,  God  judge  me,  not  man.  For  be  my 
motive  good  or  bad,  of  one  thing  I  am  sure,  the  lasting 
condemnation  of  the  North. 

I  love  peace  more  than  life.  Have  loved  the  Union 
beyond  expression.  For  four  years  I  have  waited,  hoped, 
and  prayed  for  the  dark  clouds  to  break,  for  the  restora 
tion  of  our  former  sunshine.  To  wait  longer  would  be 
a  crime.  All  hope  for  peace  is  dead.  My  prayers  have 
proved  as  idle  as  my  hopes.  God's  will  be  done.  I 
go  to  see  and  share  the  bitter  end. 

I  have  ever  held  the  South  were  right.  The  very 
nomination  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  four  years  ago,  spoke 
plainly  of  war  —  war  upon  Southern  rights  and  institu 
tions.  His  election  proved  it.  "Await  an  overt  act." 
Yes,  till  you  are  bound  and  plundered.  What  folly. 
The  South  was  not  wise.  Who  thinks  of  arguments 

1  "Letters'of  Edwin  Booth,"  edited  by  Edwina  Booth  Grossmann,  published  by  the 
Century  Company,  New  York,  1894,  p.  237. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  21 

and  patience  when  the  finger  of  his  enemy  presses  on 
the  trigger?  In  a  foreign  war  I,  too,  could  say,  "country, 
right  or  wrong."  But  in  a  struggle  such  as  ours  (where 
the  brother  tries  to  pierce  the  brother's  heart)  for  God's 
sake,  choose  the  right.  When  a  country  like  this  spurns 
justice  from  her  side  she  forfeits  the  allegiance  of  eve*ry 
honest  freeman,  and  should  leave  him  untrammelled  by 
any  fealty  soever,  to  act  as  his  conscience  may  approve. 

People  of  the  North,  to  hate  tyranny,  to  love  liberty 
and  justice,  to  strike  at  wrong  and  oppression,  was  the 
teaching  of  our  fathers.  The  study  of  our  early  history 
will  not  let  me  forget  this,  and  may  it  never. 

This  country  was  formed  for  the  white,  not  for  the 
black,  man.  And  looking  upon  African  slavery  from  the 
same  standpoint  held  by  the  noble  framers  of  our  Consti 
tution,  I,  for  one,  have  ever  considered  it  one  of  the 
greatest  blessings  (both  for  themselves  and  us)  that 
God  ever  bestowed  upon  a  favoured  nation.  Witness 
heretofore  our  wealth  and  power,  witness  their  elevation 
and  enlightenment  above  their  race  elsewhere.  I  have 
lived  among  it  most  of  my  life,  and  have  seen  less  harsh 
treatment  from  master  to  man  than  I  have  beheld  in  the 
North  from  father  to  son.  Yet  heaven  knows,  no  one 
would  be  more  willing  to  do  for  the  Negro  race  than  I, 
could  I  but  see  a  way  to  better  their  condition. 

But  Lincoln's  policy  is  only  preparing  the  way  for 
their  total  annihilation.  The  South  are  not,  nor  have  they 
been,  fighting  for  the  continuation  of  slavery.  The  first 
battle  of  Bull  Run  did  away  with  that  idea.  Their 
causes  since  the  war  have  been  noble  and  greater  far 
than  those  that  urged  our  fathers  on.  Even  should  we 
allow  they  were  wrong  at  the  beginning  of  this  contest, 
cruelty  and  injustice  have  made  the  wrong  become  the 
right,  and  they  stand  now  (before  the  wonder  and  admi- 


22  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

ration  of  the  world)  as  a  noble  band  of  patriotic  heroes. 
Hereafter,  reading  of  their  deeds,  Thermopylae  would 
be  forgotten. 

When  I  aided  in  the  capture  and  execution  of  John 
Brown  (who  was  a  murderer  on  our  western  border,  and 
who  was  fairly  tried  and  convicted  before  an  impartial 
judge  and  jury  of  treason,  and  who,  by  the  way,  has 
since  been  made  a  god),  I  was  proud  of  my  little  share 
in  the  transaction,  for  I  deemed  it  my  duty,  and  that  I 
was  helping  our  common  country  to  perform  an  act  of 
justice.  But  what  was  a  crime  in  John  Brown  is  now 
considered  (by  themselves)  as  the  greatest  and  only 
virtue  of  the  whole  Republican  party.  Strange  trans 
migration!  Vice  to  become  a  virtue,  simply  because 
more  indulge  in  it. 

I  thought  then,  as  now,  that  the  Abolitionists  were  the 
only  traitors  in  the  land,  and  that  the  entire  party  deserved 
the  same  fate  of  poor  old  Brown;  not  because  they  wished 
to  abolish  slavery,  but  on  account  of  the  means  they 
have  ever  used  to  effect  that  abolition.  If  Brown  were 
living  I  doubt  whether  he  himself  would  set  slavery 
against  the  Union.  Most,  or  many,  in  the  North  do,  and 
openly  curse  the  Union,  if  the  South  are  to  return  and 
retain  a  single  right  guaranteed  by  every  tie  which  we 
once  revered  as  sacred.  The  South  can  make  no  choice. 
It  is  either  extermination  or  slavery  for  themselves  (worse 
than  death)  to  draw  from.  I  know  my  choice. 

I  have  also  studied  hard  to  discover  upon  what  grounds 
the  right  of  a  state  to  secede  has  been  denied,  when  our 
very  name,  United  States,  and  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence,  both  provide  for  secession.  But  there  is  no 
time  for  words  —  I  write  in  haste.  I  know  how  foolish 
I  shall  be  deemed  for  undertaking  such  a  step  as  this, 
where,  on  the  one  side,  I  have  many  friends  and  every- 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  23 

thing  to  make  me  happy;  where  my  profession  alone 
has  gained  me  an  income  of  more  than  twenty  thousand 
dollars  a  year,  and  where  my  great  personal  ambition 
has  such  a  great  field  for  labour.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  South  have  never  bestowed  upon  me  one  kind  word; 
a  place  where  I  have  no  friends,  except  beneath  the  sod; 
a  place  where  I  must  become  either  a  private  soldier 
or  a  beggar.  To  give  up  all  of  the  former,  besides  my 
mother  and  sisters,  whom  I  love  so  dearly  (although  they 
so  widely  differ  from  me  in  opinion),  seems  insane,  but 
God  is  my  judge.  I  love  justice  more  than  I  do  a  country 
that  disowns  it;  more  than  fame  and  wealth;  more 
(heaven  pardon  me  if  wrong)  than  a  happy  home.  I 
have  never  been  upon  a  battlefield;  but,  O  my  country 
men!  could  you  all  but  see  the  reality  or  effects  of  this 
horrid  war,  as  I  have  seen  them  (in  every  state,  save 
Virginia)  I  know  you  would  think  like  me,  and  would 
pray  the  Almighty  to  create  in  the  Northern  mind  the 
sense  of  right  and  justice  (even  should  it  possess  no 
seasoning  of  mercy),  and  that  He  would  dry  up  this  sea 
of  blood  between  us,  which  is  daily  growing  w^der.  Alas, 
poor  country,  is  she  to  meet  her  threatened  doom  ? 

Four  years  ago  I  would  have  given  a  thousand  lives 
to  see  her  remain  (as  I  had  always  known  her)  powerful 
and  unbroken.  And  even  now  I  would  hold  my  life  as 
naught  to  see  her  what  she  was.  O  my  friends!  if  the 
fearful  scenes  of  the  past  four  years  had  never  been  enacted, 
or  if  what  had  been,  had  been  but  a  frightful  dream  from 
which  we  could  now  awake,  with  what  overflowing  of 
hearts  could  we  bless  our  God  and  pray  for  his  continued 
favour.  How  I  have  loved  the  old  flag  can  never  now  be 
known.  A  few  years  since  and  the  entire  world  could 
boast  of  none  so  pure  and  spotless.  But  I  have  of  late 
been  seeing  and  hearing  of  the  bloody  deeds  of  which 


24  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

she  has  been  made  the  emblem,  and  would  shudder  to 
think  how  changed  she  has  grown.  Oh  how  I  have 
longed  to  see  her  break  from  the  mist  of  blood  and  death 
that  circles  around  her  folds,  spoiling  her  beauty  and 
tarnishing  her  honour!  But  no,  day  by  day  she  has 
been  dragged  deeper  and  deeper  into  cruelty  and  oppres 
sion,  till  now  (in  my  eyes)  her  once  bright-red  stripes  look 
like  bloody  gashes  on  the  face  of  heaven.  I  look  now 
upon  my  early  admiration  of  her  glories  as  a  dream. 
My  love  (as  things  stand  to-day)  is  for  the  South  alone. 
Nor  do  I  deem  it  a  dishonour  in  attempting  to  make  a 
prisoner  of  this  man,  to  whom  she  owes  so  much  of  her 
misery.  If  success  attends  me,  I  go  penniless  to  her 
side.  They  say  she  has  found  that  "last  ditch"  which 
the  North  have  so  long  derided,  and  been  endeavouring 
to  force  her  in,  forgetting  they  are  our  brothers,  and  that 
it 's  impolitic  to  goad  an  enemy  to  madness.  Should  I 
reach  her  in  safety  and  find  it  true,  I  will  proudly  beg 
permission  to  triumph  or  die  in  that  same  "ditch"  by 
her  side. 

A  Confederate  Doing  Duty  upon  His  Own  Respon 
sibility 

J.  WILKES  BOOTH.  l 

There  was  only  one  person  in  all  New  York  to  whom, 
so  far  as  we  know,  John  made  any  mention  of  his  plans 
for  ending  the  war.  That  one  was  Samuel  Chester,  a 
member  of  Edwin's  company,  and  a  man  John  had  known 
well  for  years.  To  Chester,  John  said  he  was  not  going 

1  "Reminiscences  of  the  Assassination  of  Lincoln,"  by  J.  E.  Buckingham,  doorkeeper 
of  Ford's  Theatre,  pp.  53-57  (press  of  Rufus  H.  Darby,  Washington,  1894);  "Life  of 
Lincoln,"  by  Henry  J.  Raymond,  pp.  793-796  (published  by  Derby  &  Miller.  New 
York,  1865). 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  25 

"to  act  in  this  portion  of  the  country  again;  that  he  had 
taken  his  wardrobe  to  Canada,  and  intended  to  run  the 
blockade."  Chester  thought  John  named  a  man,  Martin, 
in  Montreal  as  having  charge  of  his  theatrical  wardrobe, 
which  was  a  valuable  one.1  John  told  Chester  he  had 
a  big  speculation  on  hand,  and  invited  him  to  go  into  it. 
Some  friends  who  were  present,  joked  John  about  his 
oil  lands,  but  after  he  and  Chester  had  left  the  others, 
John  said  he  had  a  better  thing  than  oil,  and  "one  they 
would  n't  laugh  at/'2 

Even  with  Chester,  though,  he  was  vague  —  "  feeling 
his  way."  Just  before  he  returned  to  Washington  on 
the  eleventh  of  December,  John  told  Chester  he  was 
speculating  in  farm  lands  in  lower  Maryland  and  Vir 
ginia,  and  that  he  was  "sure  to  coin  money."  He  urged 
Chester  to  join  with  him,  but  Chester  said  he  had  n't  any 
means.  Whereupon  John  said  that  "that  didn't  mat 
ter;  he  would  furnish  the  means."  But  he  did  not  say 
further  what  the  sensational  nature  of  the  speculation 
was. 

He  was  back  in  Washington  on  Monday,  the  twelfth 
of  December,  and  stayed  until  Saturday  morning,  the 


1  In  the  American  Magazine  for  November,  1908,  Otis    Skinner    gives   a  pathetic 
account  of  the  burning  of  that  wardrobe  by  Edwin  Booth,  during  the  dead  of  a  stormy 
winter  night  in  1873. 

2  C.  T.  p.  44,  S.  K.  Chester. 


26  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

seventeenth,  when  he  went  down  again  to  Charles  County, 
was  a  guest  at  Dr.  Queen's,  and  may  have  seen  Dr. 
Mudd  —  probably  did,  because  he  went  again  to  St. 
Mary's  Church,  which  Dr.  Mudd  attended. 

He  was  most  anxious  to  learn  about  roads  between 
Washington  and  the  Potomac,  and  some  one  evidently 
told  him  that  a  good  man  for  him  to  see  would  be  John 
H.  Surratt,  who  had  done  a  lot  of  going  back  and  forth 
between  Richmond  and  Washington  for  the  Confederate 
Secret  Service. 

John  returned  to  Washington  on  Thursday,  and  on 
Friday  evening  he  ran  into  Dr.  Mudd  on  the  Avenue 
in  front  of  one  of  the  hotels.  The  doctor  and  his  brother 
Jeremiah  had  come  to  the  city  to  do  some  buying.1  They 
had  arrived  toward  evening  of  the  23rd,  and  registered 
at  the  Pennsylvania  House.  After  taking  supper  at  a 
restaurant  on  the  Avenue,  they  went  about  seeing  the 
holiday  sights.  In  the  lobby  of  the  National  Hotel  there 
was  a  great  crowd,  and  when  Jere  stopped  to  speak  to 
a  friend,  the  brothers  became  separated.  A  few  moments, 
later  Dr.  Mudd  was  hailed  on  the  Avenue  by  John,  who, 
after  a  little  general  conversation,  asked  for  an  intro 
duction  to  a  young  man  named  John  Harrison  Surratt, 
whose  family  had  lately  moved  into  Washington  from 

1  C.  T.  p.  IQO,  Jeremiah  T.  Mudd. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  27 

Charles  County.  Dr.  Mudd  said  he  was  not  aware  that 
the  Surratts  lived  in  Washington,  but  John  had  the 
address  of  their  new  home  —  541  H  Street,  N.  W., 
between  Sixth  and  Seventh  —  written  on  a  card.  He 
told  Dr.  Mudd  that  he  wanted  to  consult  with  young 
Surratt  about  Maryland  lands,  and  had  been  told  that 
Dr.  Mudd  knew  him. 

Dr.  Mudd  said  he  had  not  time  to  go  to  H  Street,  as 
he  must  be  at  the  Pennsylvania  House  at  eight  o'clock 
to  meet  some  friends.  But  while  they  were  talking, 
John  Surratt  came  down  Seventh  Street  toward  the 
Avenue,  accompanying  his  friend,  Louis  Weichmann, 
who  boarded  with  Mrs.  Surratt.  Weichmann  wished 
to  buy  some  Christmas  presents  for  his  sisters  in  Phila 
delphia,  and  he  and  Surratt  were  bound  on  that  errand 
when  Dr.  Mudd  hailed  Surratt,  and  introductions  fol 
lowed.  The  four  then  went,  on  Booth's  invitation,  to 
his  room  at  the  National,  a  block  away,  where  he  ordered 
a  milk-punch  apiece,  and  four  cigars.1 

It  seems  that  Dr.  Mudd  never  liked  Booth,  never 
trusted  him.  He  saw  him  only  a  few  times  —  not  more 
than  three  times  before  John  came  to  his  house  disabled 
in  his  flight  —  but  they  seem  to  have  been  temperament 
ally  antagonistic. 


1  "  Life  of  Dr.  Mudd,"  p.  42.     Dr.  Mudd's  sworn  statement,  see  Appendix  V. 


28  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

On  this  evening  of  the  meeting  in  Washington,  Dr. 
Mudd  took  Surratt  into  the  passage-way  outside  Booth's 
room  and  apologized,  he  said,  to  Surratt  for  introducing 
to  him  a  man  he  knew  so  little  of.  This  was  whispered 
in  the  passage,  and  it  was  what  Weichmann  afterward 
described,  under  oath,  as  "conspiring"  to  which  he  was 
not  admitted.  The  rest  of  the  "conspiracy"  was  when 
Booth,  saying  he  had  been  lost  when  down  in  Charles 
County  a  few  days  before,  took  an  old  envelope  out  of 
his  pocket  and,  sitting  down  by  Surratt,  began  to  draw 
roughly  the  location  of  sundry  roads.  The  entire 
stay  in  John's  room  was  about  fifteen  minutes,  after 
which  they  all  walked  up  to  the  Pennsylvania  House, 
where  Dr.  Mudd  was  staying. 

The  next  day  the  Mudds  returned  to  Bryantown  and 
Booth  went  over  to  New  York  to  spend  Christmas  with 
his  family.  It  was  during  this  visit  that  he  made  his 
chief  effort  to  get  Chester  into  the  plot.  He  called  at 
Chester's  house  in  Grove  Street,  and  asked  him  to  take  a 
walk.  They  went  to  "The  House  of  Lords"  on  Houston 
Street,  a  favourite  resort  of  actors,  and  afterward  for  a 
stroll  up  Broadway,  stopping  at  the  Revere  House,  then 
going  on  as  far  as  the  corner  of  Bleecker  Street  where 
Chester  turned  to  go  home.  Booth  had  not  yet  named 
his  "speculation,"  although  he  had  seemed  on  the  verge 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  29 

of  doing  so.  When  Chester  turned  to  go,  John  restrained 
him  and  asked  him  to  walk  up  to  Fourth  Street  where 
there  were  not  so  many  people.  When  they  reached 
the  unfrequented  portion  of  that  street,  John  stopped 
and  told  Chester  he  was  "in  a  large  conspiracy  to  capture 
the  heads  of  the  Government,  including  the  President, 
and  to  take  them  to  Richmond."  The  abduction,  John 
thought,  might  take  place  in  Ford's  Theatre,  and  some 
one  was  needed  who  would  get  employment  at  the  theatre 
and  at  a  given  signal  open  the  back  door  so  the  captors 
with  their  captured  might  rush  quicky  out.  Chester 
refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  so  mad  a  scheme.1 

John  Booth  was  back  in  Washington  from  New  York 
on  the  last  day  of  the  year,  and  probably  soon  saw  John 
Surratt,  and  was  introduced  to  the  pleasant  household 
on  H  Street. 

Mrs.  Mary  E.  Surratt  was  a  kind,  comely,  motherly 
woman  of  forty-five.  As  Miss  Mary  Jenkins  she  had 
been  a  belle,  if  not  the  belle,  of  Prince  George  County, 
Maryland.  But  she  married  very  young  and  settled  on 
a  farm  near  Washington.  Later,  her  husband,  John 
Harrison  Surratt,  made  some  money  as  a  railroad  contrac 
tor,  and  purchased  a  place  twelve  miles  from  Washington 
where  he  kept  a  small  tavern  and  discharged  the  duties 

i  C.  T.  p.  44,  S.  K.  Chester. 


30  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

of  postmaster.  They  had  three  children :  Isaac  —  who 
entered  the  Confederate  army,  went  to  the  far  southwest, 
and  was  not  heard  from  for  years;  Anna,  and  John  H.,  Jr. 
Mr.  Surratt  died  in  '62,  and  his  widow  kept  the  tavern  until 
the  fall  of  '64,  when  she  rented  the  property  to  John  M. 
Lloyd,  and  with  her  son  and  daughter  moved  into  the 
house  on  H  Street,  where  she  expected  to  support  herself 
by  keeping  boarders.  One  of  the  first  of  these  to  take  up 
his  home  with  her  was  Louis  J.  Weichmann,  who  had 
gone  to  school  at  St.  Charles  College,  Howard  County,  Md., 
with  John  Surratt.  The  two  boys  entered  and  left  the 
college  at  about  the  same  time  and  were  there  three  years.1 
John  Surratt 's  father  dying  soon  after  he  left  school, 
young  John,  though  but  nineteen,  was  appointed  United 
States  postmaster  in  his  father's  place.  It  seems  that,  even 
while  employed  by  the  Government  at  Washington,  Sur 
ratt  must  have  worked  for  the  government  at  Richmond 
which  would,  of  course,  put  him  in  the  "spy"  class.  But 
spies  are  as  necessary  in  war  as  artillery,  and  as  common 
to  one  side  of  every  struggle  as  to  the  other,  and  we  may  not 
hold  a  man  a  villain  because  he  serves  his  cause  under 
cover.  "We  had  a  regularly  established  line  from  Wash 
ington  to  the  Potomac,"  said  Surratt,  describing  it,  years 
afterward,  "and  being  the  only  unmarried  man  on  the 


1  C.  T.  p.  113,  Louis  J.  Weichmann. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  31 

route  I  had  most  of  the  hard  riding  to  do.  I  devised  vari 
ous  ways  to  carry  the  despatches :  sometimes  in  the  heels 
of  my  boots,  sometimes  between  the  planks  of  my  buggy. 

.  .  .  It  was  a  fascinating  life  to  me.  It  seemed  as 
if  I  could  not  do  too  much  or  run  too  great  risk."1 

Weichmann,  meanwhile,  had  become  a  teacher,  first  in 
the  country  near  Baltimore,  then  in  the  city  of  Washington; 
and  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  '64  he  was  appointed  to  a 
clerkship  in  the  War  Department,  in  the  office  of  the 
Commissary-General  of  Prisoners.  He  had  visited  the 
Surratts  in  their  country  home  several  times  and  had  been 
delightfully  treated,  so  that  when  he  heard,  on  the  occasion 
of  his  last  visit  there, of  their  intended  move  to  Washington, 
he  made  arrangements  to  become  a  part  of  the  family 
circle  in  the  new  home.2  Miss  Honora  Fitzpatrick 
became  a  boarder  at  the  same  time;  and  on  the  seventh  of 
February,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  T.  Holohan  and  their  two 
children  took  the  big  second-story  front  room.  Distinctly 
it  was  a  household  of  Southern  sympathies,  and  as  such  one 
in  which  many  tears  may  well  have  been  shed  during  that 
winter  of  '64-'65. 

To  this  household  came,  early  in  January,  John  Booth, 
with  his  charm  and  his  fame  and  his  flaming  purpose  to 
right  the  wrongs  of  the  South.  On  the  twenty-ninth  of 

1  Rockville  Lecture  of  John  H.  Surratt,  December  8,  1870.     See  Appendix  VI. 
1  C.  T.  p.  113,  Weichmann. 


32  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

December  John  Surratt  had  gone  to  work  for  the  Adams 
Express  Company,  but  Booth  seems  to  have  persuaded  him 
to  leave,  and  on  the  fourteenth  of  January  Surratt  gave  up 
his  job  and  began  to  give  his  entire  time  and  attention  to 
the  abduction  plot.1 

One  of  the  first  things  he  did  was  to  go  down  to  the 
neighbourhood  of  Port  Tobacco,  Md.,  where  he  was  intro 
duced  by  a  man  named  Harborn  to  a  carriage-painter, 
George  A.  Atzerodt.  Through  Atzerodt,  Surratt  bought 
of  James  Brawner,  the  hotel  keeper  at  Port  Tobacco,  a 
lead-coloured,  flat-bottomed  boat  which  would  hold  about 
fifteen  persons.  This  was  to  ferry  the  abductors  and  the 
President  across  the  Potomac,  and  for  that  purpose  it 
was  kept  in  readiness,  first  at  the  head  of  Goose  Creek, 
then  at  Nanjemoy  Creek.  Atzerodt  was  to  do  the 
ferrying.3 

About  that  time,  too,  Edward  Spangler,  a  rough 
carpenter  and  scene-shifter  employed  at  Ford's  Theatre, 
Washington,  and  "a  man  by  the  name  of  George'*  (prob 
ably  Atzerodt,  who  began  going  frequently  to  Washington 
as  soon  as  he  joined  the  conspiracy)  re-fitted  for  John 
Booth  a  small  stable  in  the  alley  immediately  behind  Ford's 

1  See  Appendix  VII:     Note  on  possibility  of  abduction. 

2  Statement  by  George  A  Atzerodt  made  in  his  cell  July  6, 1865,   "The  Assassination 
of  Abraham  Lincoln,"  by  Osborn  H.  Oldroyd,  owner  of  the  Oldroyd  Lincoln  Memorial 
Collection  and  Curator  of  the  House  where  Lincoln  died.      O.  H.  Oldroyd,  Washing 
ton,  IQOI,  p.  113. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  33 

Theatre.1  The  stable  belonged  to  a  Mrs.  Davis,  of  whom 
it  was  rented  for  Booth  by  Maddox,  the  property-man  at 
Ford's.2  Spangler  and  "  George  "  raised  the  roof  a  little  to 
accommodate  the  buggy  Mr.  Booth  wished  to  keep  there, 
and  put  in  two  stalls. 

This  is,  also,  the  probable  date  of  the  urgent  letter  Booth 
wrote  Chester,  telling  him  he  "must  come/'  and  sending 
fifty  dollars  with  injunctions  to  "be  there  by  Saturday 
night."8  This,  in  all  likelihood,  indicated  an  impending 
visit  of  the  President  to  Ford's  Theatre,  probably  to  see 
Forrest,  of  whose  acting  he  was  extremely  fond.  But 
Chester  did  not  go,  although  neither  did  he  at  once  return 
John's  fifty  dollars. 

Nothing  came  of  the  "Saturday  night"  possibility,  and 
on  the  twenty-eighth  of  January  Booth  went  to  New 
York,  where  he  may  or  may  not  have  stayed  until 
February  22d,  when  he  was  back  in  Washington.4  He 
called  again  on  Chester  while  in  New  York  and  renewed 
his  urging  that  Chester  join  the  plot.  He  told  Chester 
then  that  he  had  tried  to  get  John  Matthews  into  it,  but 
Matthews  was  very  much  frightened  and  would  not  join, 
which  marked  him  a  coward,  Booth  thought,  and  "not  fit 

1  C.  T.  p.  75,  Joseph  Burroughs. 
»C.  T.  p.  75,  James  L.  Maddox. 
«  C.  T.  p.  44,  S.  K.  Chester. 
*  C.  T.  p.  46,  G.  W.  Bunker. 


34  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

to  live."  Matthews  was  a  member  of  the  stock  company 
at  Ford's,  and  up  to  within  a  very  short  time  before  the 
murder  of  the  President  occupied  that  little  hall-room  in 
the  Peterson  house,  across  the  street  from  the  theatre, 
where  Lincoln  died;  and  there,  it  is  quite  probable, 
Booth  often  visited  him,  urging  him  to  join  the  plot. 
After  Chester's  final  refusal,  in  February,  to  have, 
anything  to  do  with  the  plot,  and  his  return  of  the  fifty 
dollars,  which  John  said  he  would  not  have  taken  back 
had  he  not  been  short  of  funds,  Chester  heard  nothing 
more  of  John  Booth  for  a  couple  of  months. 

About  the  tenth  of  February,  Sam  Arnold  probably 
came  over  from  Baltimore;  if  he  had  been  living  in  Wash 
ington  before  that  date  we  do  not  know  it,  but  on  February 
10th  or  thereabouts  he  and  Michael  O'Laughlin  engaged 
a  room  with  Mrs.  Mary  Van  Tine  at  420  D  Street.  Booth 
sometimes  called  on  them  there  after  his  return  to  Washing 
ton,  and  Mrs.  Van  Tine  thought  that  once  there  had  been 
another  man  to  see  them.1  In  consequence,  her  room 
has  been  hectically  described  as  "the  den  where  the  murder 
was  hatched." 

John  and  Anna  Surratt  had  in  New  York  City  a  young 
lady  cousin  whom  they  had  never  seen,  but  with  whom 
they  kept  up  a  more  or  less  desultory  correspondence. 

1  C.  T.  p.  ass,  Mrs.  Mary  Van  Tine. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  35 

This  young  lady  was  Miss  Belle  Seaman,  and  on  the  sixth 
of  February  John  wrote  her  a  letter  which  was,  in  part,  as 
follows : 

I  am  happy  to  say  we  are  all  well  and  in  fine  spirits. 
We  have  been  looking  for  you  to  come  on  with  a  great  deal 
of  impatience.  Do  come,  won't  you  ?  Just  to  think,  I 
have  never  yet  seen  one  of  my  cousins.  But  never  fear, 
I  will  probably  see  you  all  sooner  than  you  expect.  Next 
week  I  leave  for  Europe.  Yes,  I  am  going  to  leave  this 
detested  country,  and  I  think,  perhaps,  I  may  give  you  all 
a  call  as  I  go  to  New  York.  .  .  .  Cousin  Bell,  try  and 
answer  me  in  a  few  days  at  least,  as  I  would  like  very  much 
to  hear  from  you  before  I  leave  home  for  good. 

I  have  just  taken  a  peep  in  the  parlour.  Would  you  like 
to  know  what  I  saw  there  ?  Well,  ma  was  sitting  on  the 
sofa,  nodding  first  to  one  chair,  then  to  another,  next  the 
piano.  Anna  is  sitting  in  a  corner,  dreaming,  I  expect,  of 
J.  W.  Booth.  Well,  who  is  J.  W.  Booth  ?  She  can  answer 
the  question.  Miss  Fitzpatrick,  playing  with  her  favourite 
cat  —  a  good  sign  of  an  old  maid  —  the  detested  old 
creatures.  Miss  Dean  fixing  her  hair,  which  is  filled  with 
rats  and  mice. 

But  hark!  The  door-bell  rings  and  Mr.  J.  W.  Booth  is 
announced.  And  listen  to  the  scamperings.  Such  brush 
ing  and  fixing.1 

Evidently  John  Booth  was  not  without  his  fluttering 
admirers  in  the  house  on  H  Street  where  he  had  been 
known  only  about  a  month  if  the  date  of  the  letter  is  correct. 
According  to  the  register  of  the  National  Hotel,  where 

1  "  History  of  the  United  States  Secret  Service,"  by  Lafayette  C.  Baker,  published 
by  L.  C.  Baker,  Philadelphia,  1867,  p.  562. 


36  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Booth  invariably,  so  far  as  we  know,  stopped  when  in 
Washington,  he  was  not  in  the  city  on  February  6th  nor 
at  any  time  between  January  28th  and  Washington's 
Birthday;1  nor  does  the  abduction  plot  seem  to  have 
promised  at  any  time,  during  that  interim,  to  come  to  a 
"head."  On  the  other  hand,  John  Surratt  did  go  to  New 
York  in  February.  He  called  on  John  Booth  at  Edwin 
Booth's  house,  the  elegance  of  which  he  never  tired  of 
describing  to  the  interested  group  at  H  Street.2  Whether 
he  called  also  on  his  cousin  Belle  we  do  not  know,  but  he 
probably  did.  He  did  not,  however,  "leave  this  detested 
country/'  but  soon  returned  to  Washington  and,  with  the 
others,  went  on  biding  his  time  impatiently. 

The  plot  at  that  time  embraced,  besides  John  Booth: 
Surratt,  Sam  Arnold,  Michael  O'Laughlin,  Atzerodt, 
and  possibly  Davy  Herold.  Surratt  was  giving  his  entire 
time  to  the  plans,  with  the  exception  of  an  occasional 
errand  between  Washington  and  Richmond  for  the  Con 
federate  government.  O'Laughlin  was  doing  a  little 
business,  taking  orders  in  Washington  which  his  brother 
supplied  from  Baltimore.*  Arnold  was  idle,  to  the  great 
disapproval  of  his  people  who  thought  —  and  reasonably 


^ee   Appendix  VIII:     Note   on   John    Y.    Beall. 

a  "  Trial  of  John  H.  Surratt,"  published  by  the  Government  Printing  Office,  Wash 
ington,  1867,  vol.  i,  p.  375. 

»C.  T.  p.  232,  P.  H.  Maulsby. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  37 

—  that  gay,  handsome,  spendthrift  John  Booth,  with  his 
easy  ways,  his  multitude  of  acquaintances,  his  celebrity, 
his  large  income,  and  expensive  tastes,  was  no  helpful 
company  for  a  boy  who  had  only  hard  work  to  look  to  for 
a  plain  living.  Arnold  belonged  in  the  small-salaried  class, 
and  was  a  youth  who  would  probably  grow  old  within  the 
$100-a-month  limit;  all  questions  of  treasonable  mischief 
aside,  there  was  no  possible  good  for  him  in  loafing  about 
Washington  with  John  Booth.  But  Arnold,  flattered,  was 
loath  to  believe  this. 

Atzerodt,  too,  had  stopped  working  at  his  trade  and  was 
waiting  to  achieve  fortune  in  a  single  bold  coup. 

Davy  Herold  was  a  boy  of  nineteen  or  thereabouts  whose 
father,  recently  deceased,  had  for  twenty  years  been  princi 
pal  clerk  of  the  store  at  the  Navy  Yard.  Davy  had  seven 
sisters,  and  the  family  was  of  the  most  unquestionable 
gentility  and  good  report.  The  only  boy  was  a  bit  spoiled, 
but  a  nice  boy  withal.  He  was  trifling  rather  than  serious 
in  disposition,  fond  of  outdoor  sport,  and  not  at  all  fond  of 
application  to  a  humdrum  business,  but  in  no  way  base. 

Just  when  he  first  came  under  the  spell  of  John  Booth 
we  do  not  know,  but  it  was  probably  in  January,  '65, 
through  the  Surratts,  whom  Davy  knew  slightly  before  they 
moved  into  town. 

There  is,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  very  little  to  connect  Davy 


38  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

with  the  conspiracy.  He  was  seen  twice  or  thrice  at  the 
Surratts'  after  they  moved  to  H  Street;  he  was  with  John 
Surratt,  Weichmann,  Atzerodt,  and  Holohan  at  Ford's 
Theatre  on  March  18th,  when  John  Booth  played  Pescara 
for  McCullough's  benefit;1  and  a  half-witted  negro  boy 
who  did  chores  for  Mrs.  Surratt  told  Weichmann  that 
Davy  was  with  Booth,  Payne,  Atzerodt,  Surratt,  Arnold, 
and  O'Laughlin  on  the  afternoon  of  March  16th  when  they 
attempted  to  capture  the  President.  Besides  these  things, 
and  the  fact  that  Davy  sometimes  called  on  Booth  at  the 
National  Hotel,  and  sometimes  hung  around  the  stable 
where  Booth  kept  his  horse,  there  is  nothing  to  implicate 
him  except  with  guilty  knowledge,  after  noon  of  April  14th, 
of  what  was  to  be  done  that  night. 

After  an  early  breakfast  on  the  last  day  of  February, 
Booth  closed  his  account  to  date  at  the  National  Hotel 
and  took  the  8.15  train  for  Baltimore.2  That  was  the 
Tuesday  before  Lincoln's  second  inauguration.  In  Balti 
more,  later  in  that  day,  Booth  was  standing  on  the  steps 
of  Barnum's  Hotel  when  he  saw  a  wretched-looking 
young  fellow  dragging  himself  miserably  by.  The 
youngster  was  magnificently  built,  with  a  breadth  of 
shoulders  and  a  bull-like  thickness  of  neck  which  recalled 
to  John  Booth  some  one  he  had  once  seen.  He  called 

1  C.  T.  p.   115,  Louis  Weichmann. 
2C.  T.  p.  46,  G.  W.  Bunker. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  39 

out,  and  the  shambling  young  giant  turned.  Then 
John  knew  him.  Nearly  four  years  before,  in  the  late 
spring  of  '61,  when  Richmond  was  full  of  martial  stir, 
there  had  sat  high  up  in  the  cheaper  seats  of  Ford's 
Theatre  one  night  a  gawky,  overgrown  country  lad,  a 
Baptist  preacher's  son,  who,  although  he  was  only  sixteen, 
had  hastened  to  enlist  in  the  Second  Florida  Infantry. 
The  lad  had  never  been  to  a  theatre  before,  and  he  was 
entranced  with  all  he  saw  and  heard,  but  chiefly  with 
John  Booth.  And  although  he  was  unused  to  stage- 
doors  he  had  found  his  way  to  the  back  of  Ford's  Theatre, 
and  waited  in  the  dark  for  his  enchanter  to  come  out. 
When  Booth  came,  and  the  country  lad  stepped  timidly 
up  to  speak  to  him,  that  love  of  being  loved  which  was 
the  foundation  of  John  Booth's  charm  was  instantly 
appealed  to,  and  the  brilliant  young  actor  and  the  raw 
young  recruit  left  the  alley  together,  chatting  pleasantly. 
Before  the  recruit  went  to  war  in  Lee's  army  to  fight  in 
the  bloodiest  battles  straight  through  to  the  bloodiest 
angle  of  Gettysburg,  where  he  fell,  wounded,  he  saw 
John  Booth  several  times;  but  their  ways  never  crossed 
again  until  that  day  in  '65.  In  the  meantime,  the  Florida 
boy  had  fought,  had  fallen,  had  served  as  a  prisoner- 
nurse  in  hospitals  at  Gettysburg  and  Baltimore,  had 
escaped  and,  failing  to  rejoin  his  old  regiment,  had 


40  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

enlisted  with  a  regiment  of  Virginia  cavalry  with  which 
he  stayed  until  January,  '65,  when  he  became  disheart 
ened  over  the  Confederate  cause,  went  to  Baltimore,  sold 
his  horse  —  his  sole  possession  —  and  started  out  to 
look  for  work.  He  had  not  been  successful,  his  little 
funds  were  all  gone,  and  when  Booth  met  him  he  was 
deeply  discouraged.  His  two  brothers  had  been  killed 
at  Murfreesboro,  he  had  not  heard  from  home  in  a  long 
time;  and  he  felt  —  this  boy  of  twenty  who  had  spent  the 
last  four  years  in  scenes  of  carnage  and  devastation  - 
that  life  was  worth  mighty  little  to  him.1 

To  this  desperate  and  blindly  adoring  young  giant,  John- 
of-the-many-charms  unfolded  his  wild  scheme  of  cap 
turing  the  President.  And  the  very  next  evening, 
probably,  the  Florida  boy,  Lewis  Payne,  rang  the  bell 
at  541  H  Street  and  asked  Weichmann,  who  opened  the 
door,  for  John  Surratt.  When  told  that  Surratt  was  not 
in,  Lewis  asked  for  Mrs.  Surratt,  and  she  went  to  the  hall 
to  speak  to  him.2  What  he  told  her  we  shall  never  know, 
but  it  was  probably  this:  That  he  was  an  ex-soldier  of 
the  Confederate  army,  a  stranger  newly  come  to  Wash 
ington,  and  a  friend  of  John  Booth,  who  had  told  him 
to  seek  out  John  Surratt.  This  was  more  than  enough  to 
get  the  hospitality  of  Mrs.  Surratt,  and  she  asked  the  big 

1  C.  T.  p.  313,  argument  of  W.  E.  Doster. 

2  C.  T.  p.  114,  Weichmann;  p.  132,  Miss  Honora  Fitzpatrick;  p.  i32,rMrs.  Holohan. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  41 

youth  to  stay.  Supper  was  over  and  her  dining-room  was 
in  some  disarrangement,1  so  she  prepared  a  tray  which 
she  asked  Weichmann  to  carry  up  to  the  big  stranger, 
who  gave  the  name  of  Wood.  "Wood"  was  quartered 
for  the  night  in  Weichmann's  room  and  there  he  ate 
voraciously  of  the  supper  carried  to  him,  and,  immediately 
it  was  eaten,  went  to  bed.  In  the  morning  when  WTeich- 
man  rose  —  or  so  he  testified  —  "Wood"  was  gone. 

On  Friday  evening,  March  3d,  Booth  was  in  Mrs. 
Surratt's  parlour  for  a  while  in  company  with  John  Surratt, 
Weichmann,  and  the  ladies  of  the  household.  Miss 
Anna  Surratt  played  the  piano,  they  sang,  probably 
Booth  did  some  hugely  comical  "imitations,"  or  in  some 
other  wise  lent  his  mimetic  gift  to  the  fun  of  the  occasion 
—  and  thus  passed  a  happy  hour  or  two.  Then,  while 
the  evening  was  still  young,  the  three  men  went  up  to 
the  Capitol  to  witness  the  closing  scenes  of  a  memorable 
Congress.2 

The  next  day  Booth  was  at  the  inauguration,  and 
afterward  walked  down  the  Avenue  to  the  hotel  with 
Walter  Burton,  the  night  clerk  of  the  National,  an  enthu 
siastic  Lincoln-lover  who  in  all  his  association  with  John 
Booth  never  knew  that  the  actor  was  not  also  a  loyal 
admirer  of  the  President.  On  the  way  from  the  Capitol 

1  Surratt   Trial,   vol.    i,   p.   376. 
2S.  T.  vol.   i,  p.  380. 


42  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

after  the  ceremonies  Booth  said  nothing  to  dampen  the 
ardour  of  his  companion,  nor  to  indicate  that  he  had  been 
charging  so  wildly  about  during  the  inaugural  as  to  excite 
suspicion  and  even  —  according  to  some  reports  —  to 
get  himself  briefly  locked  up.1 

It  was  at  this  time  that  an  incident  occurred  which  has 
been  related  by  John  McCullough:  Booth  had  returned 
to  the  National  late  in  the  day  of  March  1st,  and  was 
there  uninterruptedly  for  the  next  three  weeks.  On 
or  about  the  fourth  of  March,  McCullough  went  over 
from  New  York,  registered  at  the  National,  and  went 
up  to  Booth's  room,  which  he  entered  without  knocking. 
"At  the  first  wink,"  he  said,  "I  saw  Booth  sitting  behind 
a  table,  on  which  was  a  map,  a  knife,  and  a  pistol.  He 
had  gauntlets  on  his  hands,  spurs  on  his  boots,  and  a 
military  hat  of  a  slouch  character  on  his  head.  As  the 
door  opened  he  seized  that  knife  and  came  for  me.  Said 
I:  'John,  what  in  the  name  of  sense  is  the  matter  with  you 
—  are  you  crazy  ?'  He  heard  my  voice  and  arrested 
himself,  and  placed  his  hands  before  his  eyes  like  a  man 
dissipating  a  dream,  and  then  said:  'Why,  Johnny, 
how  are  you?'  "« 

On     Monday,    March    13th,    Booth    telegraphed    to 

1  Told  the  present  writer  by  Mr.  Walter  Burton,  night  clerk  of  the  National  Hotel, 
Washington,  in  1865,  now  manager  of  the  Oxford  Hotel,  Washington. 
3  Oldroyd,   p.   ga. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  43 

O'Laughlin  in  Baltimore  saying:  ''Don't  fear  to 
neglect  your  business.  You  had  better  come  at  once/'1 
That  Monday  evening  the  household  of  Mrs.  Surratt  — 
John  excepted  —  was  again  in  the  parlour,  passing  the 
time  with  music  and  euchre,  when  the  door-bell  rang 
and  Weichmann,  going  to  the  door,  admitted  "Wood"  — 
this  time  well  dressed  and  well  groomed.  When  told 
John  Surratt  was  not  at  home,  he  asked  for  John's  mother 
to  whom  he  gave  his  name  as  Lewis  Payne.  Mrs.  Surratt 
took  Mr.  Payne  into  the  parlour  and  introduced  him 
to  her  household.  He  spent  the  evening  with  the  family, 
and  at  bedtime  was  shown  to  Weichmann 's  room.  Noth 
ing  was  said  about  "Wood, "  and  if  Payne  was  recognized 
as  identical  with  the  guest  of  nearly  a  fortnight  before, 
no  comment  was  passed  upon  it.  He  went  out  after 
breakfast  the  next  morning,  and  returned  late  in  the 
afternoon.  John  Surratt  was  at  home,  lying  on  the  bed 
in  Weichmann's  room,  and  Payne  asked  the  man  on  the 
bed  if  he  were  Mr.  Surratt.  On  being  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  Payne  expressed  a  wish  to  talk  privately 
with  Mr.  Surratt  —  or  so  Weichmann  said."  Weich- 
mann's  attitude  in  the  whole  matter  of  the  conspiracy  is, 
however,  so  inexplicable,  his  testimony  is  so  full  of  state 
ments  easily  proved  untrue,  that  anything  attributed  to 

1  C.  T.  p.  223,  John  Hapman. 
»C.  T.  p.  115,  Weichmann. 


44  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

him  must  be  taken  with  reservation,  and  nothing  he  says 
must  be  credited  unless  it  is  well  supported  by  other 
evidence.  That  particular  statement  about  Payne's 
meeting  with  Surratt  is  probably  true.  It  is  probably 
true,  too,  that  on  returning  from  work  in  the  War  Depart 
ment  on  Wednesday  the  fifteenth,  about  five  in  the 
afternoon,  Weichmann  found  a  false  moustache  on  his 
table  —  and  hid  it;  also  that,  not  seeing  Surratt  or 
Payne  about,  he  went  up  to  the  attic  over  his  room  and 
saw  them  "sitting  together  on  the  bed  surrounded  by 
spurs,  bowie-knives,  and  revolvers/'  and  that  he  went 
down  and  told  Mrs.  Surratt  what  he  had  seen,  only  to  be 
reminded  by  her  that,  as  John  Surratt  was  in  the  habit 
of  "going  into  the  country  he  had  to  have  these  things 
as  a  protection."  Weichmann  must  certainly  have 
known  that  John  Surratt  was  a  bearer  of  secret  messages 
for  the  Confederate  government,  going  often  to  Rich 
mond  through  the  thick  of  Federal  detectives,  with  des 
patches  in  his  boots  and  elsewhere.  And  his  knowing 
this  —  he,  a  supposedly  loyal  clerk  of  the  War  Depart 
ment  —  is  what  makes  us  doubt  his  horror  of  the  Surratt 
disloyalty  when  $25,000  was  the  price  on  John  Surratt 's 
head.  Weichmann  was  not  so  shocked  by  the  bowie- 
knives,  however,  that  he  was  not  anxious  to  accompany 
Surratt  to  Ford's  Theatre  on  a  pass  John  Booth  had 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  45 

given  him.  But  Surratt  took  Payne  and  two  of  his 
mother's  boarders  —  Miss  Fitzpatrick  and  little  nine- 
year  old  Appolonia  Dean.1 

Weichmann  said  that  toward  the  close  of  the  play 
Booth  came  to  the  box  —  which  was  box  7,  part  of  what 
was  known  as  the  President's  box  —  and  called  Payne 
and  Surratt  out,  talking  to  them  excitedly.  He  did  not 
say  how  he  knew  this.  He  also  said  that  after  Surratt 
and  Payne  brought  Miss  Fitzpatrick  and  little  Appolonia 
home  in  a  hack,  they  went  away  again  and  stayed  away 
all  night.  This  is  probably  true,  for  that  seems  a  likely 
time  for  the  meeting  at  the  Lichau  House  whose  exact 
date  no  one  seems  to  have  remembered. 

What  excited  Booth  may  have  been  the  news  that  on 
the  next  day  there  was  to  be  a  performance  at  the  Sol 
diers'  Home  of  "Still  Waters  Run  Deep,"  with  Lester 
Wallack,  E.  L.  Davenport,  and  a  special  company  includ 
ing  John  Matthews.  The  President  was  expected  to 
attend  this  performance  and  it  was  Booth's  plan  to  lie  in 
wait  for  the  President's  carriage  as  it  was  returning, 
spring  from  the  bushes  by  the  roadside  at  a  lonely  spot, 
overpower  the  men  on  the  box,  gag  and  bind  them,  and, 
turning  right-about-face,  drive  the  captured  with  all 
speed  toward  the  Potomac  at  Nanjemoy  Creek;  there, 

1  C.  T.  p.  121,  Miss  Fitzpatrick;  S.  T.  vol.  i,  p.  378,  Weichmann. 


46  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

on  the  waiting  boat  secured  by  Atzerodt,  he  was  to  be 
ferried  across  to  Virginia  and  hurried  to  Richmond.1 
O'Laughlin  had  arrived  in  Washington  in  response  to 
Booth's  telegram2  on  Tuesday,  and  he  was  at  this  meet 
ing.  Arnold  was  there;3  Surratt  and  Payne  were  there; 
Atzerodt  was  there;  Davy  Herold  may  or  may  not  have 
been  there. 

It  seems  to  have  been  a  stormy  meeting,  whatever  it  was 
about.  John  Surratt  says  that  the  news  of  the  Soldiers' 
Home  play  reached  the  conspirators  only  about  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  before  the  time  appointed;  if  this  is 
true,  the  meeting  of  the  night  before  was  probably  that 
one  —  the  date  of  which  no  one  was  able  to  remember 
exactly  —  at  which  John  Surratt  told  the  others  that  their 
plot  was  known  in  Washington  and  steps  were  being  taken 
to  thwart  it.  He  said  the  best  thing  they  could  do  would 
be  to  throw  up  the  whole  project,  and  every  one  but  Booth 
seemed  inclined  to  agree  with  him.  The  arch-conspirator 
listened  in  silence  to  the  murmurs  of  withdrawal,  and  then 
rose,  smote  the  table  with  his  fist  and  exclaimed:  "Well, 
gentlemen,  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst  I  shall  know 
what  to  do."  Four  of  the  six  others  then  rose  to  go,  one 

1  John  Surratt's   Rockville   Lecture  (see  Appendix  VI. ),  Atzerodt's  Statement  (see 
Appendix  XVI.). 

2  C.  T.  p.  223,  John  Hapman. 

3  C.  T.  p.  235,  Eaton  G.  Horner. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  47 

saying:  "If  I  understand  you  to  intimate  anything  more 
than  the  capture  of  Mr.  Lincoln  I,  for  one,  will  bid  you 
good-bye."  The  others  nodded  their  acquiescence  and  they 
put  on  their  hats  and  moved  toward  the  door.  Then 
Booth  asked  pardon,  disavowed  any  more  sinister  intention 
than  the  one  originally  agreed  upon,  and  the  meeting  was 
resumed,  to  last  until  five  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Arnold, 
however,  said  that  if  nothing  was  done  that  week  he 
would  withdraw  from  the  plan  entirely. 

On  Thursday  afternoon,  when  the  virtuous  Mr.  Weich- 
mann  reached  home,  he  found  nobody  about.  A  ring  of 
the  service-bell  brought  from  the  kitchen  a  mulatto  boy, 
Dan,  who  said  that  Massa  John  had  gone  horse-back  riding 
with  six  or  seven  other  gentlemen,  including  Mr.  Booth, 
Payne,  Atzerodt,  Dave  Herold,  and  two  others  Dan  did  n't 
know. 

According  to  Weichmann's  story,  when  he  went  down  to 
dinner  he  met  Mrs.  Surratt  in  the  hall.  She  was  weeping 
bitterly  and  said: 

"  Mr.  Weichmann,  go  down  to  your  dinner  and  make  the 
best  of  it  you  can  —  John  is  gone  away !  John  is  gone 
away!"1 

John  had  probably  left  a  note  for  his  mother  telling  her 
that  he  had  gone  to  abduct  the  President  and  would  go 

1  C.  T.  p.  1 1 8,  Weichmann. 


48  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

from  Richmond  to  Europe.  Weichmann  felt  that  Mrs. 
Surratt's  upset  condition  was  evidence  of  her  complicity; 
whereas  it  looks  to  the  unprejudiced  mind  as  if  she  would,  if 
previously  aware  of  the  plot,  have  by  this  time  learned  to 
control  herself,  and  if  she  approved  of  it  could  only  have 
rejoiced  that  her  boy  was  to  play  a  leading  part  in  the 
great  coup  of  the  long,  bitter  war. 

About  half-past  six,  after  Weichmann  and  the  other 
boarders  had  eaten  their  dinner,  Surratt,  Payne,  and  Booth 
came  one  at  a  time  into  Weichmann 's  room,  dressed  as 
from  riding,  and  all  seemed  greatly  excited  and 
disappointed.  Chief  Justice  Salmon  P.  Chase  had  gone 
to  the  Soldiers'  Home  in  Mr.  Lincoln's  stead,  and  as  they 
wanted,  in  Surratt's  words,  "a  bigger  chase/'  nothing 
was  accomplished. 

According  to  Weichmann,  it  was  Surratt  who  got  home 
first.  "My  prospects  are  gone,"  he  declared  to  Louis, 
"my  hopes  are  blasted.  Can  you  get  me  a  clerkship? 
I  want  something  to  do." 

In  about  half  an  hour,  Weichmann  says,  Payne,  Booth, 
and  Surratt  left  the  house  —  Payne  to  return  there  no 
more  until  the  night  of  his  arrest  a  month  later.  Then 
Weichmann,  brimming  with  suspicion,  went  to  call  on 
Captain  D.  H.  Gleason,  a  fellow  clerk  in  the  office  of  the 
Commissary-General  of  Prisoners.  Captain  Gleason  was 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  49 

not  at  home,  but  Weichmann  told  him  the  next  day  what 
had  happened.  At  least,  Weichmann  said  he  did,  and 
that  they  agreed  things  looked  strange,  and  perhaps  the 
Secretary  of  War  ought  to  be  told;  but  they  decided  after 
all  not  to  tell  —  only  "to  keep  an  eye  on  them  [the  con 
spirators]  and  if  anything  again  came  up  to  report  it 
promptly  to  the  authorities,  secure  horses  if  need  be,  and 
pursue  them."  This  was  a  good  deal  of  responsibility 
for  two  young  men  to  take  who  were  busy  in  a  department 
all  day  long,  but  Weichmann  says  they  took  it.  It  was 
Captain  Gleason  who  told  the  Secretary  of  War,  after  the 
President's  assassination,  to  summon  Weichmann  as  a 
witness,  but  Captain  Gleason  was  never  himself  called  to 
the  stand  to  say  whether  he  and  Weichmann  had  or  had 
not  previously  conferred  and  decided  not  unnecessarily 
to  alarm  the  Government.1 

Shortly  after  the  fiasco  of  March  16th,  Arnold  and 
O'Laughlin  returned  to  Baltimore.  Arnold  had  heark 
ened  to  the  entreaties  of  his  family  about  the  evils  of  idling, 
and  determined  to  go  to  work.  He  applied  for  a  clerkship 
in  the  store  of  John  W.  Wharton,  a  sutler,  outside  Fortress 
Monroe,  and  while  waiting  to  hear  from  his  application 
lived  at  home  and  with  his  brother  at  Hookstown,  six 
miles  in  the  country.2  O'Laughlin  returned  to  Baltimore 

*C.  T.   p.    119,   Weichmann. 

2  C.  T.  p.  240,  William  S.  Arnold;  Frank  Arnold. 


50  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

on  March  18th,  and  went  to  live  with  his  brother- 
in-law,  P.  H.  Maulsby,  at  57  North  Exeter  Street.1  He 
had  done  some  business  for  his  brother  in  Washington  on 
March  14th,  and  continued  working  for  him  after  returning 
to  Baltimore. 

"  Benefits  "  were  still  the  order  of  the  theatrical  world  — 
not  for  sick,  aged,  or  disabled  actors,  as  now,  nor  for  the 
families  of  actors  recently  deceased,  but  as  a  regular, 
stipulated  part  of  a  popular  actor's  income;  a  contract 
always  called  for  so  much  salary  and  so  many  benefits, 
and  on  the  occasions  of  the  latter  a  favourite  Thespian's 
professional  friends  tendered  their  services  to  make  a  "big 
bill,"  and  his  non-professional  friends  made  a  point  of 
buying  seats  and  being  enthusiastically  in  evidence.  A 
large  share  of  the  proceeds  went  to  the  beneficiary.  On 
Saturday  night,  March  18th,  John  McCullough  had 
a  benefit  at  Ford's  Theatre,  and  for  that  benefit  "the 
eminent  young  American  tragedian,  Mr.  J.  Wilkes  Booth," 
was  announced  to  present  his  "great  character  of  Pescara 
in  'The  Apostate.' '  Booth  had  given  Surratt  two  tickets 
for  the  performance  and  Surratt  invited  Weichmann  to  go 
with  him.  Atzerodt  and  Davy  Herold  were  there,  too,  and 
after  the  play  they  joined  the  other  two  and  Mr.  Holohan 
at  supper  in  an  oyster  bay  on  Seventh  Street.  Booth  was 

i  C.  T.  p.  232,  P.  H.  Maulsby. 


Collection  of  Americana,  F.  H.  Meserve. 


FORD'S  THEATRE,   WASHINGTON*,  D.  C.,  ix  WHICH  LINCOLN 
WAS  SHOT  BY  BOOTH 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  51 

not  with  them  —  he  probably  supped  with  McCullough  — 
though  he  saw  Herold  and  Atzerodt  for  a  few  moments  in 
the  restaurant  next  to  Ford's.1 

On  the  Tuesday  following,  Booth  paid  $50  on  account 
at  the  National  Hotel  and  left  on  the  7.30  p.m.  train  for 
New  York,  where  he  stayed  till  Saturday  morning.2  On 
Thursday  he  telegraphed  Weichmann  at  Mrs.  Surratt's 
saying: 

Tell  John  telegraph  number  and  street  at  once. 

J.  BOOTH. 

Mrs.  Holohan,  thinking  the  telegram  might  be  of  an 
urgent  nature,  took  it  to  Weichmann  at  the  War  Office. 
Nobody  knows  what  the  telegram  meant  —  or,  if  anyone 
knows  he  has  never  told  —  but  Weichmann  insisted  it  was 
sent  to  him  to  implicate  him  in  the  plot.  And  if  Surratt 
telegraphed  in  reply  anything  about  a  number  and  street 
no  one  was  able  to  remember  it.3 

On  his  return  to  Washington,  Booth  seems  to  have 
stopped  over  in  Baltimore  where  he  saw  O'Laughlin  but 
not  Arnold.  The  latter  was  out  at  Hookstown  with  his 
brother,  and  though  he  went  in  to  town  when  he  heard 
Booth  was  there,  it  was  too  late  to  catch  him.  So  Arnold 

1 C.  T.  p.   115,  Weichmann. 

aC.    T.    p.    46,    Bunker. 

*C.    T.    p.    118,    Weichmann. 


52  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

wrote  to  him  from  Hookstown  on  Monday  the  27th  as 
follows : 

DEAR  JOHN:  Was  business  so  important  that  you 
could  not  remain  in  Balto.  till  I  saw  you  ?  I  came  in  as 
soon  as  I  could,  but  found  you  had  gone  to  W — n.  I  called 
also  to  see  Mike,  but  learned  from  his  mother  he  had  gone 
out  with  you,  and  had  not  returned.  I  concluded,  there 
fore,  he  had  gone  with  you.  How  inconsiderate  you  have 
been!  When  I  left  you,  you  stated  we  would  not  meet  in 
a  month  or  so.  Therefore,  I  made  application  for  employ 
ment,  an  answer  to  which  I  shall  receive  during  the  week. 
I  told  my  parents  I  had  ceased  with  you.  Can  I,  then, 
under  existing  circumstances,  come  as  you  request  ?  You 
know  full  well  that  the  G — t  suspicions  something  is  going 
on  there;  therefore,  the  undertaking  is  becoming  more 
complicated.  Why  not,  for  the  present,  desist,  for  various 
reasons,  which,  if  you  look  into,  you  can  readily  see,  with 
out  my  making  any  mention  thereof.  You,  nor  any  one, 
can  censure  me  for  my  present  course.  You  have  been 
its  cause,  for  how  can  I  now  come  after  telling  them  I  had 
left  you  ?  Suspicion  rests  upon  me  now  from  my  w^hole 
family,  and  even  parties  in  the  county.  I  will  be  compelled 
to  leave  home  anyhow,  and  how  soon  I  care  not.  None, 
no,  not  one,  were  more  in  favour  of  the  enterprise  than 
myself,  and  to-day  would  be  there,  had  you  not  done  as  you 
have  —  by  this  I  mean,  manner  of  proceeding.  I  am,  as 
you  well  know,  in  need.  I  am,  you  may  say,  in  rags, 
whereas  to-day  I  ought  to  be  well  clothed.  I  do  not  feel 
right  stalking  about  with  means,  and  more  from 
appearances  a  beggar.  I  feel  my  dependence ;  but  even  all 
this  would  and  was  forgotten,  for  I  was  one  with  you. 
Time  more  propitious  will  arrive  yet.  Do  not  act  rashly  or 
in  haste.  I  would  prefer  your  first  query,  'go  and  see  how 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  53 

it  will  be  taken  in  R  —  d/  and  ere  long  I  shall  be  better 
prepared  to  be  with  you  again.  I  dislike  writing;  would 
sooner  verbally  make  known  my  views;  yet  your  non- 
writing  causes  me  thus  to  proceed. 

Do  not  in  anger  peruse  this.  Weigh  all  I  have  said,  and, 
as  a  rational  man  and  a  friend,  you  cannot  censure  or 
upbraid  my  conduct.  I  sincerely  trust  this,  nor  aught  else 
that  shall  or  may  occur,  will  ever  be  an  obstacle  to  obliter 
ate  our  former  friendship  and  attachment.  Write  me  to 
Balto.,  as  I  expect  to  be  in  about  Wednesday  or  Thursday, 
or,  if  you  can  possibly  come  on,  I  will  Tuesday  meet  you 
in  Balto.,  at  B  -  .  Ever  I  subscribe  myself, 

Your  friend, 

SAM.1 

This  letter  may  have  preceded  or  may  have  been  in 
answer  to  a  telegram  of  that  same  date  which  Booth  sent  to 
O'Laughlin  saying: 

Get  word  to  Sam.  Come  on,  with  or  without  him, 
Wednesday  morning.  We  sell  that  day  sure.  Don't  fail. 

J.  WILKES  BOOTH.  2 

It  is  difficult  to  guess  what  plan  this  refers  to,  for  the 
President  was  at  City  Point  with  General  Grant,  and  there 
was  no  thought  of  his  return  by  Wednesday  nor  for  days 
thereafter.  He  had  gone  down  the  Potomac  on  the 
River  Queen,  convoyed  by  the  little  steamer  Bat,  and 
arrived  at  City  Point,  at  the  junction  of  the  Potomac  and 
the  James,  on  Friday  evening  the  twenty-fourth  of  March. 


p.   235,   Lieutenant  William  H.  Terry. 
2  C.  T.  p.  223,  Edward  C.  Stewart. 


54  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Mrs.  Lincoln  and  Tad  were  with  him,  and  Grant  was 
there  to  greet  him.  On  Monday,  Sherman  came  up  from 
Goldsborough,  N.  C.,  and  the  President  and  his  two 
leading  generals  had  two  long  interviews  whereat  Lincoln 
and  Sherman  did  most  of  the  talking  and  Grant  the 
"heaviest  listening."  The  two  generals  seemed  agreed 
that  in  all  probability  one  or  the  other  of  them  would  have 
to  fight  another  big  and  bloody  battle,  but  that  it  would 
be  the  last.  Lincoln  begged  to  know  if  further  bloodshed 
could  not  possibly  be  avoided  and  Sherman  assured  him 
it  rested  with  Jefferson  Davis  and  General  Lee.1 

It  was  an  anxious  time:  the  South  was  practically 
beaten  but  it  had  not  yet  bowed.  The  ragged,  starving, 
desperate  army  of  Lee  had  two  alternatives,  and  two 
only:  The  Union  army  encircled  Richmond  and  Peters 
burg,  except  on  the  west  and  southwest;  if  Lee  should 
abandon  his  defence  of  those  cities  he  might  either  join 
Johnston  in  North  Carolina  or  retreat  by  way  of  Lynch- 
burg  into  the  mountains  and  indefinitely  prolong  the 
bloodshed  of  a  war  already  ended  in  effect. 

Lincoln  felt  that  every  life  henceforth  laid  down  in 
this  war  was  a  sacrifice  which  ought  to  be  prevented,  and 
it  was  probably  his  earnest  pleading  which  hastened 

1  Rhodes,  vol.  v.,  pp.  107-108;  "Sherman's  Memoirs,"  vol.  ii.,  pp.  326-331;  "Cam 
paigning  with  Grant,"  by  General  Horace  Porter,  p.  417  (published  by  the  Century 
Company,  1897). 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  55 

Grant  into  the  field  on  Wednesday  the  29th,  to  begin  his 
last,  or  Appomattox,  campaign,  the  object  of  which  was 
to  intercept  Lee's  retreat  toward  the  west  or  southwest, 
and  force  an  early  peace. 

Throughout  the  eleven  days  of  that  campaign  Lincoln 
sat  at  City  Point  headquarters,  tensely  waiting.  Those 
were  the  days  when  he  was  so  often  seen  playing  with 
the  three  motherless  kittens  whose  orphaned  crying  he 
hushed  with  the  stroking  of  his  big  gentle  hands.1  Mrs. 
Lincoln  returned  to  Washington  on  Saturday,  the  first 
of  April  —  the  day  Sheridan  was  fighting  the  battle 
of  Five  Forks  —  leaving  little  Tad  with  his  father. 

The  next  day  a  messenger  from  the  War  Department 
tiptoed  down  the  aisle  of  St.v  Paul's  Church,  Richmond, 
where  Jefferson  Davis  was  attending  service,2  and 
handed  him  Lee's  telegram  saying:  "I  see  no  prospect 
of  doing  more  than  holding  our  position  here  till  night. 
I  am  not  certain  that  I  can  do  that.  If  I  can  I  shall 
withdraw  to-night  north  of  the  Appomattox,  and,  if  pos 
sible,  it  will  be  better  to  withdraw  the  whole  line  to-night 
from  James  River.  ...  I  advise  that  all  preparations 
be  made  for  leaving  Richmond  to-night.  "s 

1  "  Campaigning  with   Grant,"   p.   410. 

2  "Life  of  Jefferson  Davis"  by  Mrs.  Davis,  vol.  ii,  pp.  655,  667;  "From  Manassas  to 
Appomattox,"  by  General  Longstreet,  p.  607  (published  by  Lippincott  &  Co.,  Phila.)- 

3  O.  R.,  Series  I,  vol.  xlvi,  part  i,  p.  1264. 


56  THE  DEATH  OP  LINCOLN 

That  night  Richmond  and  Petersburg  were  evacuated, 
and  the  next  morning  the  Union  troops  marched  in. 
Grant,  hot  in  pursuit  of  Lee's  army,  had  no  time  to 
ride  victorious  into  the  conquered  capital,  but  Lincoln 
knew  that  if  he  moved  expeditiously  he  might  see  his 
Lieutenant-General  before  he  left  Petersburg;  so  he 
telegraphed  Secretary  Stanton  that  he  was  going  to  the 
front  to  see  Grant.  To  this  Stanton  hastened  to  reply 
most  characteristically:  "Allow  me  respectfully  to  ask 
you  to  consider  whether  you  ought  to  expose  the  nation 
to  the  consequence  of  any  disaster  to  yourself  in  the  pur 
suit  of  a  treacherous  and  dangerous  enemy  like  the  rebel 
army/'  This  caution  did  not  reach  the  President  until 
late  in  the  afternoon  when  he  wired:  "Thanks  for  your 
caution,  but  I  have  already  been  to  Petersburg.  Stayed 
with  General  Grant  an  hour  and  a  half,  and  returned 
here.  It  is  certain  now  that  Richmond  is  in  our  hands, 
and  I  think  I  will  go  there  to-morrow.  I  will  take  care 
of  myself."1 

Richmond  was  indeed  in  our  hands.  Davis  with  his 
Cabinet  and  his  staff  and  other  officials  left  their  capital 
at  eleven  o'clock  Sunday  night,  and  at  the  time  Lincoln 
was  telegraphing  Stanton  as  above,  had  reached  Danville 
in  safety.  Under  Lee's  orders,  all  tobacco  in  the  city 

1  O.  R.,  Series  I,  vol.  xlvi,  part  iii,  pp.  508,  SPO- 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  57 

and  all  stores  which  could  not  be  removed  were  set  on 
fire  before  the  evacuation,  and  that  Sunday  night  was 
marked  by  conflagration  and  rioting.  By  seven  in  the 
morning  the  Union  soldiers  began  coming  in,  bands 
playing,  banners  unfurled,  throats  splitting  with  cheer 
on  cheer.1  The  next  day  Lincoln  entered  most 
modestly,  with  a  tiny  escort,  and  remained  over  night, 
returning  to  City  Point  Wednesday.  He  found  good 
news  from  Grant  awaiting  him,  and  was  anxious  to  go 
forward  upon  the  trail  of  that  victorious  general,  and  be 
present  at  the  surrender  which  was  now  imminent.  But 
on  Thursday  came  from  Washington  the  news  of  Secre 
tary  Seward's  injury  in  being  thrown  from  his  carriage  — 
he  sustained  fractures  of  the  arm  and  of  the  jaw  —  and 
the  President  felt  that  he  ought  to  get  back  to  his  post 
at  the  White  House.  On  that  day,  though,  Mrs.  Lincoln 
returned  to  City  Point  accompanied  by  Senator  and  Mrs. 
Harlan  and  Senator  Sumner,  all  anxious  to  go  to  Rich 
mond.  This  delayed  the  return  to  Washington  until 
Saturday,2  and  when  the  River  Queen  reached  her  dock 
at  nine  o'clock  Sunday  night,  the  President  was  greeted 
with  the  news  of  Lee's  surrender  to  Grant  at  Appomattox 
that  afternoon.3 


1  Rhodes,  vol.  v,  p.  118. 

2  See  Appendix  IX:     Note  on  Lincoln's  Last  Journey. 

*  Col.  W.  H.  Crook,  who  accompanied  the  President  to  City  Point,  as  body  guard, 


58  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Meanwhile,  the  fall  of  Richmond  had  been  celebrated 
in  Washington  on  April  3rd,  with  great  rejoicing.  And 
toward  evening  of  that  day  John  Surratt  came  home 
from  the  fallen  capital,  whither  he  had  gone  with  some 
despatches,  arriving  there  the  night  of  Friday,  March 
31st.  He  was  told  that  Benjamin,  the  Confederate 
Secretary  of  War,  wanted  to  see  him,  and  he  reported 
to  that  gentleman  at  the  Spotswood  Hotel  where,  on  his 
agreeing  to  carry  some  despatches  to  Canada,  he  was 
given  the  despatches  and  two  hundred  dollars  in  gold  to 
pay  his  expenses.  He  left  Richmond  Saturday  morning, 
and  arrived  in  Washington  about  four  o'clock  Monday 
afternoon.  He  went  home,  but  did  not  stay  except  to 
change  his  underclothing.  This  he  accounts  for  by  saying 
that  a  detective  had  been  to  his  house  inquiring  of  a 
servant  his  whereabouts.  He  asked  his  chum  Weichmann 
to  go  down  town  with  him  and  have  some  oysters,  and 
.after  they  had  eaten  these  in  an  oyster  bay  on  the  Avenue, 
Surratt  bade  Weichmann  good-bye,  saying  he  would  sleep 
at  the  National  Hotel  that  night  and  leave  by  an  early 
morning  train  for  Montreal.1  That  was  the  last  they 

relates  (Harper's  Magazine,  September,  1907,  p.  532)  that  when  the  carriage  contain 
ing  the  President's  party  left  the  wharf  in  Washington,  Sunday  evening,  the  "streets 
were  alive  with  people,  all  very  much  excited.  There  were  bonfires  everywhere.  .  .  . 
We  halted  the  carriage  and  asked  a  bystander,  'What  has  happened?'  He  looked  at  us 
in  amazement,  not  recognizing  Mr.  Lincoln.  'Why,  where  have  you  been?  Lee  has 
surrendered.'  " 

1  Surratt 's  Lecture.     See  Appendix  VI. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  59 

saw  of  each  other  until  more  than  two  years  later,  when 
Weichmann,  having  sworn  away  the  life  of  John  Surratt's 
mother,  stood  on  the  witness  stand  prepared  to  do  the 
same  by  his  heavily  manacled  friend  in  the  prisoner's 
dock. 

Booth  was  not  at  the  National  that  night  of  April  3rd. 
He  had  gone  to  New  York  on  Saturday,  leaving  word 
with  Atzerodt  to  sell  his  horse  and  buggy.  If  he  had 
had  any  scheme  for  Wednesday,  March  29th,  it  fell 
through;  and  it  seems  highly  probable  that  when  Booth 
left  Washington  three  days  later  it  was  in  disgust  with 
the  whole  affair.  Surratt  was  away;  Arnold  had  left  the 
whole  business;  O'Laughlin  was  working  in  Baltimore 
and  paid  no  attention  to  his  urgent  telegram  of  Monday; 
their  victim  was  at  City  Point  and  seemed  likely  to  stay 
there.  So  Booth  went  to  New  York,  and  when  Surratt 
called  on  him  at  Edwin's  house  on  Tuesday  afternoon, 
he  was  told  that  John  had  that  morning  left  suddenly 
for  Boston  where  Edwin  was  acting  in  ' 'Hamlet."  Whether 
he  was  really  out  of  town  or  not  seems  impossible  to 
determine.  Certainly  he  was  in  New  York  on  Friday, 
for  on  that  night  he  was  at  "The  House  of  Lords"  and 
was  seen  and  talked  with  for  the  last  time  by  a  number 
of  his  actor  friends  playing  in  New  York.  Samuel  Chester 
was  one  of  these,  and  to  him  John  said  he  had  been  very 


60  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

close  to  Lincoln  on  inauguration  day,  and  had  had  "an 
excellent  chance  to  kill  the  President  if  I  had  wished."1 

The  next  day  he  returned  to  Washington,  and  there, 
on  Sunday  night,  he  must  have  heard  of  Lee's  surrender. 

Monday  evening  he  called  at  Mrs.  Surratt's  where  he 
found,  besides  the  members  of  the  little  household,  a 
friend  of  the  family,  Miss  Anna  Ward,  who  had  received 
a  letter  from  John  Surratt  and  taken  it  to  his  mother 
and  sister  to  share  its  contents  with  them. 

After  the  guests  had  gone,  Mrs.  Surratt  told  Weichmann 
it  would  be  necessary  for  her  to  drive  to  Surrattsville 
the  next  day  to  see  about  some  money  due  her  from  a 
Mr.  Nothey  for  land  purchased  by  him  from  her  husband. 
She  asked  Weichmann  if  he  thought  he  could  get  leave 
from  his  office  and  drive  her  there.  This  leave  he  obtained 
without  difficulty  on  Tuesday  morning  when  he  reported 
at  the  War  Department,  and  he  then  went,  on  Mrs. 
Surratt's  suggestion,  to  John  Booth  at  the  National  Hotel 
to  ask  for  his  horse  and  buggy.  Booth  told  Weichmann 
he  had  sold  his  horse  and  buggy  only  the  day  before,  but 
gave  him  ten  dollars  to  hire  one  —  which  was  very  charac 
teristic  of  open-handed  John,  who  never  refused  any  one 
a  favour  if  he  could  possibly  help  it;  but  this  helped  to 
hang  Mrs.  Surratt  because  the  prosecution  contended 

1  C.  T.  p.  44,  Chester. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  61 

Booth  could  not  conceivably  have  been  so  courteous 
except  for  a  fell  purpose. 

So  Weichmann  drove  Mrs.  Surratt  into  the  country 
where  the  early  spring  was  reigning  in  delicate  beauty,  and 
after  Mr.  Nothey  had  been  seen  and  arrangements  made 
with  him  they  started  cityward  and  reached  home  about 
six  o'clock.1  That  night  at  the  White  House2  Lincoln 
made  his  last  public  address  in  which  he  said  of  the 
seceded  states  now  conquered  that  "  finding  themselves 
safely  at  home,  it  would  be  utterly  immaterial  whether 
they  had  ever  been  abroad/'3  He  was  deeply  anxious 
to  press  home  upon  his  people,  even  in  the  first  flush  of 
their  rejoicing,  their  sober  responsibilities  toward  the 
conquered  states,  and  he  was  grieved  rather  than  gratified 
by  any  demonstrations  of  joy  which  took  no  account  of  the 
sorrow  of  the  defeated,  showed  no  sign  of  gentle  intent 
toward  them. 

Thursday,  General  Grant,  who  had  gone  modestly  from 
Appomattox  to  City  Point,  arrived  in  Washington  and  was 
greeted  tumultuously.  That  night  the  city  was  en  fete, 
and  there  were  illuminations  and  speeches  and  receptions 
and  band  concerts,  and  everybody  who  was  n't  glad  for 


1  C.  T.  p.  113,  Weichmann. 

2  See  Appendix  X:     Note  on  Lincoln's  Last  Address. 

8  "  Lincoln's  Complete  Works,"  vol.  ii,  pp.  672-675,  edited  by  Nicolay  and  Hay, 
published  by  the  Century  Company,  New  York,  1894. 


62  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

peace  had  at  least  to  hold  his  tongue,  for  the  Capital  — 
notwithstanding  its  large  disloyal  population  —  was  drunk 
with  the  joy  of  victory. 

About  half-past  five  that  evening  Michael  O'Laughlin 
and  three  other  young  men  came  over  from  Baltimore  to 
see  the  celebration  —  and  O'Laughlin  to  sacrifice  his  life. 
Shortly  after  arriving  Mike  stopped  in  at  the  National  to 
see  John  Booth;  but  John  was  not  there.1 

Nobody  knows  where  Booth  was  that  evening  of  the 
13th,  or  that  night.  He  was  not  at  the  National  after 
Thursday  noon,  so  far  as  any  one  knows.  During  the 
afternoon  he  dropped  in  at  Grover's  Theatre  and  asked 
Manager  Hess  if  he  were  going  to  invite  the  President  to 
the  play  the  following  night  when  the  fall  of  Sumter  would 
be  celebrated.2  After  that  we  have  no  trace  of  him  until 
about  noon  on  Friday. 

Friday  morning  early  Mr.  Burton,  the  night-clerk  of  the 
National,  going  off  duty,  met  Davy  Herold  in  the  hall. 

"Going  to  see  Booth?"  he  asked  the  boy.  Davy  said 
he  was. 

"Well,  I  don't  think  he's  in,"  said  Burton,  "I  did  n't 
see  him  come  in  last  night,  and  he  always  stops  for  a  chat 
with  me  before  he  goes  to  bed.  But  you  'd  better  look  in 
his  room  and  see." 


1  C.  T.  pp.  228-230,  Early,  Murphy,  Henderson,  et  al. 

2  C.  T.  p.  99,  C.  D.  Hess. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  63 

Davy  went  to  228  and  knocked,  but  got  no  response; 
and  when  the  room  was  opened  it  was  found  to  have  been 
unoccupied.  Nor  was  John  Booth  ever  again  seen 
by  any  one  about  the  hotel  —  which  disposes  of  the  widely 
current  story  of  his  throwing  his  key  on  the  counter  about 
eight  o'clock  Friday  night  and  announcing  that  there  was 
to  be  "some  good  acting  at  Ford's"  that  night.1 

At  noon  on  Friday  he  sauntered  up  to  Ford's  Theatre,3 
on  Tenth  Street  between  E  and  F,  where  he  frequently  got 
mail,  and  as  he  came  up  the  street  in  the  bright  April 
sunshine  he  looked  so  handsome  that  young  Harry  Ford 
could  not  resist  a  little  good-natured  banter  about  "the 
best-looking  man  in  Washington." 

There  was  one  long  letter  for  Booth  that  morning,  and 
he  smiled  repeatedly  as  he  sat  on  the  steps  reading  it. 
When  he  had  finished,  some  one  said  teasingly  —  John 
was  an  excellent  subject  to  tease,  quick  with  his  retorts 
but  always  good-natured  withal  —  "Your  friends  Lincoln 
and  Grant  are  coming  to  the  theatre  to-night,  John,  and 
we  're  fixin'  to  have  Lee  sit  with  them." 

"Lee  would  never  do  that,"  John  replied  with  spirit. 
"He  would  never  let  himself  be  paraded,  like  a  conquered 
Roman,  by  his  captors."3 

Then  he  got  up,  thoughtfully,  and  walked  away. 

1  Told  the  present  writer  by  Mr.  Burton. 

2  C.  T.  p.  99,  H.  Clay  Ford. 

1  Told  the  present  writer  by  Mr.  H.  Clay  Ford. 


PART    II 

THE    DEED 


II 

THE  DEED 

rilHE  rejoicing  throughout  the  North  on  Monday  the 
tenth  of  April  was  such  as  our  nation  had  never  seen 
and,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  will  never  see  again,  for  only  such 
horrors  as  marked  four  years  of  civil  strife  could  bring 
such  glad  relief  as  the  news  from  Appomattox. 

In  the  morning  papers  was  printed  Stanton's  order 
suspending  the  draft,  stopping  the  purchase  of  military 
supplies,  and  removing  the  military  restrictions  from  trade. 
During  the  day  the  Inman  Line  despatched  a  special 
steamer  to  carry  the  peace  news  across  the  ocean.  Busi 
ness  was  at  a  standstill,  courts  adjourned,  houses  and 
shops  and  Government  buildings  were  decorated,  flags 
floated  from  every  mast,  cannon  were  fired,  bells  were 
rung,  whistles  were  blown,  the  streets  of  every  town  and 
village  swarmed  with  laughing,  crying,  shouting  people 
who  vented  their  feelings  according  to  their  sorts.  Bar 
rooms  were  full  and  peace  was  toasted.  Churches  were 
full  and  God  was  praised.  Prayer-meetings  were  held  in 
churches.  In  schools,  even  in  the  marts  of  trade  —  yes, 

67 


68  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

in  bar-rooms,  sometimes  —  men  broke  into  the  universal 
psalm  of  thanksgiving:  "Praise  God  from  Whom  all 
blessings  flow."  And  over  the  western  portico  of  the 
Capitol  was  a  motto:  "This  is  the  Lord's  doing;  it  is 
marvellous  in  our  eyes." 

Toward  nightfall  illuminations  and  bonfires  began  to 
blaze  from  sea  to  sea  —  or  to  the  uttermost  limits  of  the 
telegraph  —  like  the  victory-fires  of  the  ancient  Greeks ; 
and  the  air  was  full  of  songs  of  patriotism  exultant. 

This  was  the  atmosphere  to  which  Lincoln  returned  from 
the  seat  of  war.  This  was  the  spirit  to  which  he  addressed 
that  last  public  utterance  of  Tuesday  evening,  so  full  of 
magnanimity  that  Sumner  thought  it  augured  "confusion 
and  uncertainty  in  the  future,  with  hot  controversy.  Alas, 
alas!"' 

On  Thursday  Washington  went  wild  over  the  coming  of 
Grant,  the  shy,  silent,  stooping  little  victor.     There  was  a 
grand  reception  for  him  that  night  at  the  home  of  the  War 
Secretary  Stanton ;  and  on  the  morrow  —  Good  Friday  - 
the  fall  of  Fort  Sumter,  four  years  ago,  was  to  be  celebrated. 

On  Friday  morning,  while  the  President's  family  were 
at  breakfast,  young  Captain  Lincoln  came  home.  He 
was  twenty-two  years  old  and  less  than  a  year  out  of 
Harvard.  For  the  last  two  months  he  had  been  a  member 

1  "  Life  of  Charles  Sumner,"  by  E.  L.  Pierce,  vol.  iv,  p.  236. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  63 

of  General  Grant's  staff  and  as  such  with  Grant  at  Appo 
mattox.  He  had  last  seen  his  father  on  Monday  of  the 
week  before,  when  he  accompanied  the  President  to 
Petersburg  and  back  to  City  Point.  That  night  he  left 
headquarters  to  ride  after  Grant's  army  which  was  moving 
westward  in  two  divisions,  north  and  south  of  the 
Appomattox  River,  with  Lee's  army  in  between. 

There  was  a  great  deal  the  President  wanted  to  ask 
young  Robert  about  those  last  days  of  the  campaign,  and 
particularly  about  the  events  of  Palm  Sunday  afternoon  in 
the  sitting-room  of  the  little  McLean  house  at  Appomattox; 
so  breakfast  was  a  chatty  meal.  Little  Tad  was  present, 
and  excitedly  interested;  he  had  been  with  his  father  at 
City  Point  and  Richmond  and  he  felt  personally  concerned 
in  all  that  had  gone  on  after  he  left. 

After  breakfast  the  President  received  Schuyler  Colfax, 
Speaker  of  the  House,  who  was  to  start  on  Saturday  on 
a  long  western  trip  in  which  the  President  was  deeply 
interested.1  When  he  was  gone,  the  President  took  his 
usual  way  to  the  War  Department,  following  in  a  spirit  of 
joy  and  thanksgiving  the  old  trail  he  had  worn  for  himself 
in  some  thousands  of  goings  and  comings  made  in  tense 
anxiousness  and  in  deep  sorrow.  Johnston's  army  was 

141  Lincoln  and  the  Overthrow  of  Slavery,"  by  Isaac  Arnold,  President  (for  many  years 
before  his  death  in  1884)  of  the  Chicago  Historical  Society,  p.  661.  Published  by 
Clarke  &  Co.,  Chicago,  1866. 


70  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

still  in  the  field  against  Sherman,  and  there  was  the  possi 
bility  of  another  dreadful  battle  before  the  last  rebel  laid 
down  his  arms.  It  was  his  anxiety  about  this  that  took 
the  President  to  the  War  Office  to  hunt,  as  usual,  through 
the  telegraph  files. 

While  he  was  there  something  was  said  about  his  going 
to  the  theatre  that  evening.  Stanton  characterized  the 
intention  as  "crazy,"  and  in  his  blunt,  grim  way  inveighed 
against  it  with  all  his  might.  But  the  President,  who  had 
never  listened  willingly  to  such  cautionings,  contending 
that  to  die  once  were  far  better  than  to  die  a  thousand 
deaths  through  fear,  felt  sure  that  there  could  not  now  be 
any  cause  to  be  afraid.  It  had  never  seemed  likely  to  him 
that  any  enemy  could  desire  his  death,  since  that  would 
only  leave  his  power  in  the  hands  of  another;  and  of  all 
those  to  whom  any  share  of  it  might  fall,  he  knew  that 
none  had  half  his  mercy  for  the  South.  That  Washington 
and,  indeed,  the  whole  North,  not  to  mention  the  South, 
was  full  of  his  enemies  he  had  every  reason  to  be  aware. 
He  is  even  said  by  some  to  have  been  convinced  that  he 
would  be  assassinated.  Others  say  he  believed  in  a  fore 
boding  that  he  should  die  in  the  hour  of  his  greatest 
triumph.  If  he  did  have  that  apprehension,  it  is  quite 
compatible,  nevertheless,  with  his  dislike  of  being  con 
stantly  guarded.  For  he  was  a  fatalist;  he  believed 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  71 

that  what  was  to  be,  must  be.  "If  it  is  to  be  done,"  he 
argued,  "it  is  impossible  to  prevent  it."  So  he  went  about 
his  business  quietly,  and  endured  only  when  he  must  the 
futile  guardianship  of  a  special  policeman.1 

When,  therefore,  Stanton  began  again  to  remind  him  of 
the  risk  in  exposing  himself  to  a  "treacherous  and  danger 
ous  enemy"  he  humoured  his  iron  chancellor  by  proposing 
to  take  as  special  escort  Major  Eckert  of  Stanton's  office, 
whose  strength  was  prodigious  and  whose  alertness  was 
as  great.'  But  Stanton  declined  to  spare  Eckert  from  the 
busy  War  Office  that  evening.  And,  nothing  daunted 
thereby,  the  President  good-humouredly  took  his  departure 
to  the  White  House  to  preside  at  the  regular  weekly  meet 
ing  of  the  Cabinet. 

General  Grant  was  present  at  that  meeting,  and  much 
of  the  talk  turned,  naturally,  on  military  affairs.  The 
President  said  he  thought  they  would  hear  soon  of  John 
ston's  surrender  to  Sherman,  "for,"  said  he,  "I  had  last 
night  my  usual  dream  which  has  preceded  nearly  every 
important  event  of  the  war.  I  seemed  to  be  in  a  singular 
and  indescribable  vessel,  but  always  the  same,  and  to  be 
moving  with  great  rapidity  toward  a  dark  and  indefinite 
shore."  The  dream  did  not  always  prevision  victory,  he 

1  See  Appendix  XII:     Note  on  Lincoln's  Forebodings  of  Tragic  Death. 

2  "  Lincoln  in  the  Telegraph  Office,"  by  David  Homer  Bates,  published  by  the  Century 
Company,  New  York,  1907,  p.  366. 


72  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

admitted,  but  "this  time  it  must  relate  to  Sherman; 
my  thoughts  are  in  that  direction,  and  I  know  of  no 
other  very  important  event  which  is  likely  just  now  to 
occur.1 

When  the  great  subject  of  reconstruction  was 
approached,  the  President  said:  "I  think  it  providential 
that  this  great  rebellion  is  crushed  just  as  Congress  has 
adjourned  and  there  are  none  of  the  disturbing  elements 
of  that  body  to  hinder  and  embarrass  us.  If  we  are  wise 
and  discreet  we  shall  reanimate  the  states  and  get  their 
governments  in  successful  operation,  with  order  prevailing 
and  the  Union  established,  before  Congress  comes  together 
in  December.  .  .  .  I  hope  there  will  be  no  persecution, 
no  bloodshed,  after  the  war  is  over.  No  one  need  expect 
me  to  take  any  part  in  hanging  or  killing  those  men,  even, 
the  worst  of  them.  Frighten  them  out  of  the  country 
open  the  gates,  let  down  the  bars,  scare  them  off  [throwing 
up  his  hands  as  if  scaring  sheep].  Enough  lives  have 
been  sacrificed.  We  must  extinguish  our  resentments  if  we 
expect  harmony  and  union.  There  is  too  much  of  a  desire 
on  the  part  of  some  of  our  very  good  friends  to  be  mas 
ters,  to  interfere  with  and  dictate  to  those  states,  to  treat 
the  people  not  as  fellow-citizens;  there  is  too  little 

1  Gideon  Welles,  in  the  Galaxy  for  April,  1872.  Stanton  came  in  as  Lincoln  was 
discussing  his  dream,  and  Lincoln  stopped  abruptly  and  said,  "Let  us  proceed  to  busi 
ness."  Arnold,  p.  429. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  73 

respect  for  their  rights.  I  do  not  sympathize  in  these 
feelings/'1 

He  was  said  by  Stanton  to  have  been  "more  cheerful 
and  nappy"  that  morning  than  he  had  ever  seen  him. 
"He  rejoiced  in  the  near  prospect  of  durable  peace  at 
home  and  abroad,  and  manifested  in  marked  degree  the 
kindness  and  humanity  of  his  disposition  and  the  tender 
and  forgiving  spirit  that  so  eminently  distinguished  him."3 

While  the  Cabinet  meeting  was  in  session  a  White 
House  messenger  went  to  Ford's  Theatre  with  word  that 
the  President  and  Mrs.  Lincoln,  accompanied  by  General 
\  and  Mrs.  Grant,  would  occupy  the  state  box  that  night.1 
\The  box  tendered  by  Grover's  Theatre  for  that  same 
gala  night  was  also  accepted  and  given  to  little  twelve- 
year  old  Tad  to  entertain  a  party  of  his  friends. 

Early  in  the  afternoon,  however,  it  became  apparent  to 
General  Grant  that  he  could  get  away  from  his  duties  in 
Washington  quite  as  well  on  Friday  as  on  Saturday, 
and  as  he  and  Mrs.  Grant  were  impatient  to  get  to  Bur 
lington,  N.  J.,  to  see  their  daughter  Nellie,  who  was  at 
school  there,  they  excused  themselves  to  Mrs.  Lincoln 
and  prepared  to  take  the  six  o'clock  train  for  Phila- 


1  Welles,   in  the   Galaxy. 

2  Stanton's  letter  to  Charles  Francis  Adams,  United  States  Minister  to  Great  Britain; 
the  letter  is  dated  April  isth,  11.40  A.M.     O.  R.  Series  I,  vol.  xlvi.,  part  iii.,  p.  785. 

3  C.  T.  p.   100,  James  R.  Ford. 


74  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

delphia.1  In  their  stead,  Mrs.  Lincoln  invited  Miss 
Clara  Harris,  daughter  of  Senator  Ira  Harris, of  New  York, 
and  her  fiance',  Major  Henry  Rathbone.  The  White 
House  carriage,  she  sent  word,  would  call  for  the  young 
people  a  little  after  eight. 

In  the  early  afternoon,2  the  President  and  Mrs.  Lincoln 
went  for  a  long  drive  out  in  the  direction  of  the  Soldiers' 
Home.  Washington  was  very  beautiful  just  then,  with 
that  mid-April  beauty  of  hers  which  seems  to  be  quite 
unapproachable.  The  dogwood  and  the  lilacs  were  in 
bloom,  the  bright  green,  plumey  willows  swished  softly 
on  the  banks  of  the  shining  Potomac,  the  air  was  redolent 
of  sweet  scents  and  warm  with  the  breath  almost  of  sum 
mer.  The  capital  looked  very  gay,  with  its  fluttering 
flags  and  its  gay  buntings,  but  the  country  looked  even 
sweeter  to  this  tired  man  who  was  the  centre  of  the  nation's 
joy.  He  talked  to  Mrs.  Lincoln  of  what  they  would  do 
when  this  term  of  office  was  over  and  they  could  take  up 
a  quiet  life  again.  "We  have  saved  some  money,"  he 
said,  "and  ought  to  be  able  to  save  some  more.  And 
with  that  and  what  I  can  earn  from  my  law  practice,  we 
can  settle  down  in  Springfield  or  Chicago,  and  live  cozily 
to  a  green  old  age."3 

1  Grant's   "  Memoirs,"   vol.   ii.,   p.   508. 
« See  Appendices  XII  and  XIII. 
•Arnold,   p.   661. 


*>  a 


Collection  of  Americana,  F.  H.  Meserve. 

MRS.  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  75 

When  they  returned  from  the  drive  the  President  saw, 
as  they  approached  the  portico  of  the  White  House,  a 
group  of  gentlemen  leaving  and  starting  across  the  lawn 
to  the  east.  Among  them  was  Richard  Oglesby,  War 
Governor  of  Illinois. 

"Come  back,  boys,  come  back!"  the  President  shouted, 
waving  his  long  arm  in  emphatic  invitation. 

They  came  back,  and  went  with  him  upstairs  to  his  office, 
and  there  stayed,  laughing  and  talking  and  swopping  stories 
and  listening  to  him  read  from  a  book  of  humour  he  was 
enjoying,  until  he  had  to  be  thrice  summoned  to  dinner.1 

After  dinner,  Speaker  Colfax  called  again  and  brought 
with  him  Mr.  Ashmun  of  Massachusetts.  These  gentle 
men  were  shown  into  one  of  the  parlours  and  talked 
briefly  with  the  President.  While  they  were  there  the 
card  of  Senator  Stewart  of  Nevada  was  brought  in.  The 
Senator  had  taken  a  friend,  Judge  Searles,  to  call  on  the 
President,  and  in  about  five  minutes  the  usher  came  back 
with  a  card  from  Mr.  Lincoln  who  had  written: 

I  am  engaged  to  go  to  the  theatre  with  Mrs.  Lincoln. 
It  is  the  kind  of  an  engagement  I  never  break.  Come 
with  your  friend  to-morrow  at  ten  and  I  shall  be  glad  to 
see  you.  ^  A.  LINCOLN. 2 

*  "Life  of  Lincoln,"  by  Ida  M.  Tarbell,  vol.  iv.,  p.  31.  Published  by  the  McClure 
Company,  New  York,  1900. 

2  "  Reminiscences  of  Senator  William  M.  Stewart,"  published  by  the  Neale  Publishing 
Company,  1908,  p.  100. 


76  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

At  the  door  of  Captain  Lincoln's  room,  which  was 
over  the  entrance,  the  President  had  stopped  as  he  went 
downstairs  and  said:  ''We're  going  to  the  theatre, 
Bob,  don't  you  want  to  go  ?"J 

But  Captain  Robert  had  not  slept  in  a  bed  for  nearly 
two  weeks,  and  he  said  that  if  his  father  did  not  mind  he 
would  rather  stay  at  home  and  "turn  in  early."  His 
father  did  not  mind  at  all,  and  they  parted  with  cheery 
"good-nights." 

Mr.  Ashmun  was  disappointed  at  the  short  time  he  had 
with  the  President,  and  Mr.  Lincoln  urged  him  to  come 
back  in  the  morning.  "Come  as  early  as  nine,  if  you 
will,"  he  said.  And  lest  there  be  any  difficulty  about 
gaining  admittance  an  hour  before  the  official  day  began, 
the  President  stopped  at  the  door  as  he  was  going  to  his 
carriage,  picked  up  a  card  and  wrote  on  it: 

Allow  Mr.  Ashmun  and  friends  to  come  in  at  9  A.M. 
to-morrow.  A  LINCOLN.' 

This  he  gave  Mr.  Ashmun  as  he  bade  him  good-night. 
Outside,  on  the  broad  stone  flagging  beneath  the  por 
tico,  as  the  President  went  out  to  hand  Mrs.  Lincoln 
into  their  carriage,  were  Senator  Stewart  and  Judge 
Searles.  The  judge  was  introduced,  spoke  briefly  to 

1  Related  to  the  present  writer  by  Mr.  Robert  Lincoln. 

2  Tarbell  "  Lincoln,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  32.    See  Appendix  XIV:  Note  on  George  A.  Ashmun. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  77 

the  President,  and  in  a  minute  the  carriage  drove  rapidly 
away. 

The  young  sweethearts  were  in  festive  mood  at  the 
evening's  prospect,  and  the  President  responded  to  it 
with  much  happiness  in  their  care-free  company.1 

The  play  of  the  evening  was  Tom  Taylor's  eccentric 
comedy,  "Our  American  Cousin,"  which  Miss  Laura 
Keene  had  put  on  in  her  New  York  theatre  in  1858,  scoring 
immediate  success  not  only  for  herself  but  for  Mr.  Joseph 
Jefferson  and  Mr.  E.  A.  Sothern  of  her  company,  each  of 
whom  laid  the  foundation  of  fame  and  fortune  in  their 
rendition  of  the  roles  of  Asa  Trenchard  and  Lord  Dun 
dreary,  respectively.  In  the  intervening  years  the  play 
had  continued  to  be  a  tremendous  favourite,  Sothern 
playing  it  here  and  abroad  as  "  Dundreary/'  Jefferson  tak 
ing  it  to  Australia  and  South  America,  and  Miss  Keene 
playing  it  nearly  a  thousand  times  in  the  United  States. 
She  was  appearing  in  it  in  Chicago  in  June,  1860,  during 
the  sessions  of  the  Republican  Convention,  and  on  the 
night  of  Lincoln's  nomination  most  of  the  delegates  went 
to  see  her.2 

The  company  at  Ford's  was,  in  accordance  with  the 
custom  of  the  times,  a  resident  stock-company,  and  travel 
ling  stars  came  from  time  to  time  to  play  with  it.  Miss 

1  Told  the  present  writer  by  their  son,  Mr.  Henry  R.  Rathbone,  of  Chicago. 

2 Chicago  Tribune,  June  19,  1860.  Also,  Appendix  XV:     "Our  American  Cousin." 


78  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Keene  was  fortunate  in  having  a  benefit  that  night, 
although  it  was  Good  Friday,  ordinarily  the  poorest  night 
in  the  theatrical  year;  for  in  addition  to  the  advertised 
presence1  of  the  President  and  "lady"  and  General 
Grant  and  "lady,"  the  town  was  full  of  strangers  bent  on 
entertainment. 

At  ten  o'clock  that  Good  Friday  morning  there  was  read 
in  the  office  of  the  Commissary- General  of  Prisoners  a 
letter  from  the  Secretary  of  War  granting  a  holiday  to  all 
employees  whose  churches  had  divine  service  on  that  day. 
One  of  the  promptest  to  take  advantage  of  that  permission 
was  Louis  Weichmann,  who  attended  service  at  St. 
Matthew's  Church,  remaining  until  12.30,  when  he  joined 
the  H  Street  household  at  luncheon.3 

At  two  o'clock  or  thereabouts,  as  he  was  sitting  in  his 
room,  Mrs.  Surratt  came  to  the  door,  knocked,  and  told  him 
she  had  another  letter  imperatively  requiring  her  immediate 
presence  at  Surrattsville ;  she  asked  him  if  he  would  be 
willing  to  drive  here  there  again.  The  young  department 
clerk  was  delighted  at  the  opportunity  to  get  out  into  the 
country  on  this  beautiful  afternoon,  and  he  took  the  ten 
dollars  that  Mrs.  Surratt  gave  him  to  hire  a  horse  and 
buggy,  and  went  at  once  to  Howard's  stable  on  G  Street.1 

1  Washington  Star,  April  14,  1865. 
3S.  T.  vol.  i,  p.  390,  Weichmann. 
»C.  T.  p.  113,  Weichmann. 


FORD'S  THEATRE 


Friday   Evening.    April   14th,   1868. 


PRESIDENT  LIMCOLM 

BENEFIT 

LAST  NIGHT 

1ISS 

KEENE 

THE  DISTTNOC18HBD  UANAORR&8S  ACTBORS68.  *od  ACTRK88 

MR    JOHN  DYOrT"" 
JAR.   HARRY  HAWK 

TOM  TAILOR'S  CELEBRATED   ECCENTRIC  COMEDY 


c 


^  UTITUD  ">/ 

s  OUR  AMERICAN 


FLORENCE  TRE?ICT|ARD MISS  LAURA  KEENE 

Abel  Ifr orcen.  c;«rti  I.  MMM*  Ch*^"';  John 


BE\EHT  OF  MISS  JKKME  GOIRUV 

Wto  «m  b.  pr—  «.!«  BOUKCICACLTB  Ornt   S>o»tKa»l  On»», 

THB    DCT  OB    0». 


EDWIN    ADAMS 


TOE  TW1EIVE  XlOHTg  OSLT 


Collection  of  Mr.  Robert  Coster. 


PLAYBILL  OF  FORD'S  THEATRE 

Which  announced  that  the  performance  would  be 
honored  by  the  presence  of  President  Lincoln, 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  79 

As  he  was  opening  the  front  door  of  the  Surratt  house 
to  go  down  the  steps,  he  encountered  John  Booth  standing 
with  his  hand  on  the  bell  in  the  act  of  ringing.  The  two 
men  exchanged  greetings,  and  Booth  entered  the  parlour, 
Weichmann  going  on  about  his  errand.  When  he 
returned,  Booth  was  just  leaving,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
Mrs.  Surratt  and  Weichmann  started  on  their  two-hour 
drive  to  Surrattsville.  Before  leaving,  however,  Mrs. 
Surratt  exclaimed :  "  Oh,  wait!  I  must  get  those  things  of 
Booth's."1  She  returned  to  the  house  and  brought  out 
a  small  package  which  she  put  in  the  bottom  of  the  buggy. 

After  leaving  Ford's  at  a  little  after  noon,  Booth  went 
(probably)  to  the  Kirkwood  House,  now  the  Raleigh,  at 
Twelfth  Street  and  the  Avenue,  and  sent  up  to  Vice- 
President  Johnson's  room  a  card  on  which  he  had  written: 

Don't  wish  to  disturb  you ;  are  you  at  home  ? 

J.  WILKES  BOOTH.' 

At  any  rate,  such  a  card,  in  Booth's  writing,  was  sent  up 
to  the  Vice-President's  room  some  time  previous  to  five 
o'clock,  and  was  returned  to  the  office,  as  Mr.  Johnson 
was  not  in.  Instead  of  being  put  in  Johnson's  box  in  the 
office,  it  was  put  by  mistake  into  the  next  box,  which  was 
that  of  his  private  secretary,  William  A.  Browning.  Mr. 

1  S.  T.,  vol.  i,  p.  391,  Weichmann. 

2  C.  T.  p.  70,  William  A.  Browning. 


80  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Browning  got  the  card  about  five  o'clock  and  thought  it 
had  been  left  for  him,  as  he  had  a  slight  acquaintance 
with  Booth.  Whether  Booth  left  the  card,  or  whether  he 
wrote  it  and  Atzerodt  left  it,  no  one  could  say.  Booth 
must  have  known  the  Vice-President  would  hardly  be  in 
his  room  at  that  time  of  day,  so  what  he  hoped  to  gain  by 
sending  the  card  is  difficult  to  guess.  Perhaps  Atzerodt, 
who  took  a  room  at  the  Kirkwood  about  one  o'clock  that 
day,  was  given  the  card  and  told  to  send  it  —  possibly 
to  implicate  Johnson  in  the  crime  Booth  had  just  decided 
to  perpetrate  that  night ;  possibly  to  determine  for  Atzerodt 
that  the  Vice-President  was  out  and  so  make  him  feel  free 
to  explore  the  neighbourhood  of  Johnson's  room.  This 
latter  assumption  is  ridiculous,  however,  for  Atzerodt  was 
a  guest  of  the  hotel  and  could  have  prowled  about  the  Vice- 
President's  room  all  he  wished  without  exciting  suspicion, 
and  in  the  event  of  his  discovering  by  this  elaborate  ruse 
that  Johnson  was  out  (which  he  could  easily  have  done 
without  giving  his  name  or  Booth's)  he  could  do  no  more 
than  that.  There  is  a  mystery  in  that  card  which  has 
never  been  cleared,  and  perhaps  never  will  be. 

After  leaving  the  Kirkwood  (if  he  went  there)  Booth 
dropped  into  Grover's  Theatre  for  a  few  minutes  and 
chatted  with  Mr.  C.  D.  Hess,1  the  manager,  and  with  Mrs. 

C.  T.  p.  99,  C.  D.  Hess. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  81 

Hess  and  her  sister,  who  happened  to  be  present.  It  was 
he  who  told  Mr.  Hess  that  the  President  was  going  to 
Ford's  that  night,  and  therefore  would  not  occupy  the  box 
at  Grover's  tendered  him  to  see  Lester  Wallack  and 
E.  L.  Davenport.  Some  time  during  the  lunch  hour, 
vaguely  described  by  everybody  as  "  about  noon,"  Booth 
went  to  Pumphrey's  stable  on  C  Street,  back  of  the 
National  Hotel,  and  hired  a  horse,  for  which  he  said  he 
would  call  at  4.30. l  Then,  apparently,  he  went  up  to 
Mrs.  Surratt's,  and  left  there  about  half-past  two. 

Two  coloured  women  living  in  the  alley  back  of  Ford's 
Theatre  said  they  saw  Mr.  Booth  in  the  alley  during  the 
afternoon.  One  said  it  was  between  two  and  three  o'clock, 
the  other  did  not  remember  the  time;  but  as  coloured 
people  of  their  class  are  notoriously  "wild"  in  all  their 
estimates  of  time  and  dates,  nothing  can  be  argued  there 
from.  Both  of  them  were  sure,  though,  that  he  was 
"talking  to  a  lady,"  and  one  of  them  said  "he  and  this 
lady  were  pointing  up  and  down  the  alley  as  if  they  were 
talking  about  it."  She  added  that  she  knew  it  was  Mr. 
Booth  because  she  remembered  looking  "right  wishful  at 
him."2  The  lady  might  have  been  Miss  Keene,  who 
probably  rehearsed  with  the  resident  company  during  the 
day,  and  would  have  been  particularly  likely  to  do  so 

1  C.  T.  p.  72,  James  W.  Pumphrey. 

2  Q.  T.  p.  75,  Mary  Ann  Turner,  Mary  Jane  Anderson. 


82  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

after  hearing  of  the  distinguished  guests  who  were 
expected. 

Ferguson,  keeper  of  one  of  the  restaurants  which  flanked 
the  theatre  on  either  side,  also  saw  Booth  in  the  alley  dur 
ing  the  afternoon,  but  testified  that  he  was  talking  to 
Maddox,  the  property-man  of  the  theatre.1  The  time 
was  probably  between  4.30  and  5,  after  Booth  had  got  his 
horse  from  Pumphrey's  and  brought  it  to  his  stable  in  the 
alley  back  of  Ford's.  Edward  Spangler,  the  scene-shifter 
and  rough  carpenter  who  helped  to  fix  over  the  stable  for 
Booth  in  January,  and  who  did  chores  thereabouts  for  the 
actor,  took  the  horse,  and  on  being  asked  for  a  halter  sent 
Jake  Ritterspaugh,  another  scene-shifter,  to  get  a  rope  from 
the  theatre.  Spangler  wanted  to  take  the  saddle  and 
bridle  off  the  horse,  but  John  told  him  not  to;  Spangler, 
however,  did  take  them  off  when  Mr.  John  was  gone.2 

After  putting  up  the  horse,  John  went  with  Maddox, 
Spangler,  the  stage-door  keeper  named  John  Burroughs 
and  nicknamed  "Peanuts,"  and  another  young  man,  into 
one  of  the  restaurants  next  the  theatre,  and  each  took  a 
drink.  Between  that  time  and  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening 
we  have  no  absolute  knowledge  of  John  Booth's  move 
ments,  but  he  was  probably  in  the  auditorium  of  Ford's 
Theatre  for  a  while  —  possibly  between  5.30  and  6  when 

1  C.  T.  p.  76,  James  P.  Ferguson. 
•C.  T.  p.  74.  Joseph  Burroughs. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  83 

most  of  the  theatre  employees  would  be  at  their  early 
dinner. 

Now  to  go  back  a  little :  Not  long  after  John's  departure 
from  the  theatre  at  the  noon  hour,  young  Harry  Clay  Ford 
—  Mr.  John  T.  Ford's  twenty-year-old  brother  —  who  was 
treasurer  of  the  theatre,  spoke  to  Thomas  Raybold,  the 
purchasing  agent  of  the  house,  about  decorating  the  Presi 
dent's  box.  Mr.  Raybold  was  suffering  from  a  neuralgic 
stiff  neck  that  day  and  was  not  able  to  do  any  active  work 
in  decorating,  but  he  advised  and  directed,  and  Mr.  Harry 
Ford  did  the  actual  labour  with  the  assistance  of  Spangler 
and  "Peanuts." 

There  were  two  American  flags  which  had  been  used  on 
other  occasions  to  decorate  the  state  box,  and  in  addition  to 
these  it  was  decided  —  since  General  Grant  was  expected 
to  attend  —  to  send  to  the  Treasury  Department  and  bor 
row  the  Treasury  regimental  flag,  a  blue  flag  with  white 
stars.  This  was  draped  in  the  centre  of  boxes  7  and  8 
and  the  American  flags  were  disposed  above;  on  the  pillar 
in  the  middle  a  framed  picture  of  Washington  was  hung.1 

The  two  boxes  thrown  into  one  for  the  President's  use 
by  the  removal  of  the  partition  between  them,  were  balcony 
boxes  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the  house  facing  the  stage. 
(And  right  here  is  a  good  place  to  remind  readers  unused 

1C.  T.  pp.  99,  no,  H.  Clay  Ford,  Thomas  J.  Raybold. 


84  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

to  theatre  terminology  that  people  habitually  in  the  front 
of  the  house  speak  of  the  stage  right  and  left  as  the  play 
goer  would  —  and  as  he  sees  them  —  while  those  who 
habitually  see  the  theatre  from  the  other  side  of  the  foot 
lights  mean,  of  course,  exactly  the  opposite  when  they  say 
right  or  left.  The  President's  box  was  on  the  right  as  the 
audience  sat,  on  the  left  or  " opposite  prompter"  side  in 
the  players'  and  stagehands'  parlance.) 

The  boxes  were  reached  in  this  way:   On  entering  the 
main  door,  near  the  south  end  of  the  theatre  on  TentH 
Street,  one  traversed  a  lobby  the    whole    width   of   the! 
theatre  to  its  north  end,  ascended  a  stairway,  passed  along! 
an  upper  lobby  to  the  extreme  south  of  the  building  again,! 
and  went  down  the  outside  aisle  to  the  door  of  the  right-  1 
hand   private   boxes.     This    door   opened   into   a   small  i 
passage-way  behind  the  two  boxes,  and  into  each  of  the   1 
boxes  there  was,  instead  of  the  portieres  now  common  for    i 
that  use,  a  door  which  locked,  and  which  was  kept  locked 
when  the  box  was  not  in  use ;  the  key  to  it  was  kept  by  the 
usher.     The  first  door  was  at  the  left  of  persons  entering 
the  passage;  the  second  was  facing  them. 

The  ordinary  chairs  were  removed  that  day,  and  in  their 
place  were  put  some  crimson  velvet  easy  chairs  out  of  the 
reception-room,  a  chair  and  a  sofa  from  the  property- 
room  on  the  stage,  a  large  rocker  that  belonged  to  the 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  85 

reception-room  set,  but  which  Mr.  Harry  Ford  had  removed 
to  his  bedroom  on  the  third  floor  of  the  connecting  building 
on  the  south;  the  room  under  Mr.  Ford's  bedroom  was  the 
reception-room,  opening  into  the  dress-circle  or  first 
balcony. 

Mr.  Ford  had  sent  the  rocker  upstairs  because  the 
ushers  of  the  dress  circle  used  to  sit  on  it  when  not  busy, 
and  "had  greased  it  with  their  hair."  Joe  Simms,  a 
coloured  boy  who  worked  "on  the  flies"  went  up  to  Mr. 
Ford's  room,  on  his  order,  and  brought  the  chair  down. 
It  being  the  most  comfortable  chair  available,  it  was  set 
in  the  corner  of  the  box  the  President  would  inevitably 
occupy,  farthest  from  the  stage  and  nearest  to  the 
audience.  Then  the  other  furniture  was  arranged  by  Mr. 
Ford,  the  sofa  at  the  end  of  the  box  nearest  the  stage, 
the  other  chairs  between  that  and  the  rocker.1 

It  was  about  three  o'clock  when  these  preparations 
were  complete.  Spangler  and  "Peanuts"  attended  solely 
to  the  removal  of  the  partition,  and  while  they  were 
working  at  their  job  Spangler  —  so  "Peanuts"  testified 
—  said:  "Damn  the  President  and  General  Grant." 
Asked  why  he  damned  "a  man  that  had  never  done  any 
harm  to  him,"  he  said  "he  ought  to  be  cursed  when  he 
got  so  many  men  killed."8 

1  C.  T.  p.  99,  H.  C.  Ford.      '  / 

2  C.  T.  p.  74,  Burroughs.  «••* 


86  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

When  everything  was  in  readiness  the  men  left  the 
box,  and  the  auditorium  lapsed  again  into  that  ghostly 
stillness  of  the  theatre  in  daytime  —  the  shadowy  reaches 
of  it  full  of  phantom  forms,  the  intense  silence  of  it  loud 
with  echoes  of  dead  eloquence. 

Then  into  the  draped  and  decorated  box  stole  a  man! 
God  knows  who  the  man  was  —  no  one  else  does  know. 

The  man  stooped  down  and  "sighted"  for  the  eleva 
tion  of  a  tall  man's  head  above  the  top  of  the  rocker, 
and  on  a  line  with  that  elevation  he  cut  in  the  door  behind 
the  chair  a  hole  big  enough  to  admit  the  passage  of  a 
bullet;  the  hole  was  apparently  bored  with  a  small  gimlet 
then  cut  clean  with  a  sharp  penknife.  This  was,  presum 
ably,  in  the  event  of  the  assassin  getting  into  the  passage 
way  behind  the  boxes,  but  finding  the  doors  to  the  boxes 
locked  for  the  distinguished  occupants'  safety.  It  was, 
however,  an  unnecessary  preparation,  for  the  lock  on 
box  8  (in  which  was  the  President's  chair)  had  been  burst 
on  March  7th,  when  some  late  comers  found  their 
seats  occupied  and  were  shown  by  Mr.  Raybold  to  this 
box,  the  key  of  which  had  been  taken  away  by  the  usher 
after  the  first  act.  So  Mr.  Raybold  burst  the  lock.1 

Another  thing  the  man  did  was  to  set  one  end  of  a  bar 
of  wood  three  feet  six  inches  long  against  the  inside  of 

1  C.  T,  pp.  109,  in,  Thomas  J.  Raybold,  Henry  E.  Merrick,  James  O'Brien. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  87 

the  outer  door,  and  cut  to  fit  the  other  end  of  it  a  mortise 
in  the  plaster  of  the  passage-way.  This  mortise  was  cut 
by  some  sharp  instrument,  the  plaster  removed  was  taken 
carefully  away  (probably  in  a  paper  which  had  received 
it  as  it  fell),  the  brace  was  set  in  an  obscure  angle  behind 
the  door  —  and  the  job  was  done!  There  was  no  lock 
on  the  outer  door,  and  this  brace  must  be  the  assassin's 
sole  protection  against  interference  from  the  house  until 
his  deed  was  done  and  his  leap  accomplished.1 

Edward  Spangler  was  suspected  of  this  preparation, 
but  the  job  looked  less  like  a  carpenter's  than  like  the 
work  of  some  one  who  had  no  kit  of  tools.  There  was  a 
gimlet  found  in  Booth's  trunk  at  the  National  next  day,2 
but  he  was  not  at  the  National  after  this  work  was  done, 
if  it  was  done  Friday  afternoon.  It  may  possibly  have 
been  done  earlier,  when  the  abduction  plan  was  upper 
most  and  Ford's  Theatre  was  considered  a  likely  place 
from  which  to  make  the  seizure.  No  one  knows;  but  the 
hole  in  the  door  was  said  to  look  as  if  very  recently  done, 
and  the  probability  is  that  Booth  himself  did  the  work 
that  afternoon  between  five  and  six  o'clock. 

Somewhere  about  one  o'clock  Atzerodt  and  Davy 
Herold  went  to  Naylor's  stable,  Atzerodt  taking  a  dark- 


iii,  James  J.  Gifford,  Major  Henry  E.  Rathbone,  Isaac  Jac- 


quette,  Judge  A.  B.  Olin,  Thomas  J.  Raybold,  Joseph  T.  K.  Plant. 
2C.  T.  p.   112,  Bunker. 


88  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

bay  mare  which  he  had  just  hired  from  Keleher's  stable 
at  Eighth  and  E  streets,  a  few  squares  away.  Atzerodt  said 
he  wanted  to  put  the  mare  up.  Herold  engaged  a  horse 
which  he  said  he  would  call  for  at  four  o'clock.  At 
4.15  Herold  got  his  horse  and  left,  saying  he  would  be 
back  by  nine.  At  half-past  six  Atzerodt  called  for  his 
mare  and  rode  her  until  7.15,  when  he  returned  her  to 
Naylor's,  asking,  however,  that  she  be  kept  saddled  and 
bridled  until  ten.1  At  7.30  he  went  to  an  oyster  bay 
for  supper  and  was  summoned  thence  by  some  messenger 
of  Booth's  who  knew  his  haunts2  —  probably  Davy 
Herold.  Booth  was  at  the  Herndon  House  (where 
Lewis  Payne  had  been  rooming  since  March  27th.3),  and 
there,  doubtless  in  Payne's  room,  he  had  at  eight  o'clock 
a  meeting  of  conspirators.  Payne  was  there,  and  he  was 
"told  off"  for  the  assassination  of  Secretary  of  State 
Seward.  Atzerodt  was  there,  and  he  was  assigned  to 
despatch  the  Vice-President  Davy  Herold  may  have 
been  there4  —  probably  was.  John  Surratt  was  not 
there,6  he  was  in  Elmira,  N.  Y.  Arnold  was  not  there, 


1C.   T.    p.    83,    John   Fletcher. 

2  Atzerodt's  statement,  see  Appendix  XVI. 

3  C.  T.  p.  154,  Mrs.  Martha  Murray.     Payne  told  Mrs.  Murray,  whose  husband  kept 
the  Herndon  House,  that  he  was  going  to  leave  about  four  o'clock,  April  Mth;  probably 
in  the  hope  of  establishing  an  alibi.    But  Atzerodt  swore  Payne  was  at  the  Herndon  at 
eight  o'clock  and  after,  and  Payne  seems  to  have  told  his  counsel  he  was.     C.  T.  p.  314. 

4  Atzerodt  does  not  mention  Herold  as  present. 

6  Surratt  Lecture,  see  Appendix  VI:  Note  on  John  Surratt's  Trial,  see  Appendix  XVII. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  89 

he  was  clerking  at  Fortress  Monroe.1  O'Laughlin  was 
not  there;  he  was  in  Washington  for  the  celebration,  but 
he  was  fully  accounted  for  all  through  the  evening  by 
many  witnesses.2  Mrs.  Surratt  was  not  there;  she  did 
not  return  from  the  country  until  8.30,  and  was  not  out 
of  the  house  after  that.8  Dr.  Mudd,  of  course,  was  not 
there;  he  was  not  in  Washington.4  And  Edward  Spang- 
ler  was  not  there;  he  was  busy  at  the  theatre.6  So  far 
as  we  know,  only  Booth  and  Payne  and  Atzerodt  were 
present.  Payne  agreed  to  do  the  deed  apportioned  to 
him.  Atzerodt  refused  to  do  the  deed  he  was  told  to  do, 
and  was  reviled  by  Booth,  who  called  him  a  fool  and 
said  he  would  "be  hung  anyway."  "And  so,"  said 
Atzerodt,  "we  parted."  Atzerodt  then  went  to  an 
oyster  bay  on  the  Avenue  above  Twelfth  Street,  where  he 
stayed  until  about  ten  o'clock.6 

This  left  only  Booth  and  brawny  young  Lewis  Payne 
to  strike  for  what  they  believed  "the  cause."_  We  can 
imagine  the  scene  as  John  Booth,  with  frenzied  eloquence, 
urged  his  few  followers  to  their  respective  parts  in  his 

1  C.  T.  234,  240,  241,  Eaton  G.  Homer,  William  S.  Arnold,  Frank  Arnold,  John  W. 
Wharton. 

2  C.  T.  pp.  228,  232,  Early,  Murphy,  Henderson,  Loughran,  Grillet,  Purdy,  Fuller, 
Giles. 

»C.  T.   p.   116,   Weichmann. 

4  C.  T.  p.  200,  Thomas  Davis. 

6C.  T.  pp.  105,  109,  James,  Debonay,  Gifford. 

6  Atzerodt's  statement,  see  Appendix  XVI. 


90  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

awful  plans  —  probably  quoting  for  them  the  lines  he 
so  often  spoke  as  Cassius: 

.     .     .     How  many  ages  hence, 
Shall  this  our  lofty  scene  be  acted  o'er, 
In  states  unborn,  and  accents  yet  unknown  ? 

Atzerodt,  listening  unmoved,  sullen  —  personal  safety  his 
only  thought;  and  Payne,  the  young  gladiator,  dogged, 
determined,  caring  little  for  fame  but  everything  for 
his  adored  John  Booth  and  much  for  the  lost  cause  of 
his  Southland;  and  Davy  Herold,  if  he  was  there,  prob 
ably  excited  —  he  was  an  excitable  boy  and  would  have 
been  appealed  to  by  the  danger  and  daring  of  the  thing 
and  the  mad  flight  for  life  which  he  was  to  share. 

The  play  was  well  under  way  when  the  Presidential 
party  got  to  the  theatre.  The  scene  on  the  stage  as  they 
entered  represented  the  after-dinner  hour  in  an  English 
country  house.  The  drawing-room  was  full  of  volumi 
nously  crinolined  ladies  whose  ennui  had  just  been 
relieved  by  the  arrival  of  the  gentlemen  from  their  post- 
prandials  in  the  dining-room.  Miss  Keene,  as  Florence 
Trenchard,  was  trying  to  explain  a  joke  to  the  dull  Dun 
dreary.  "Can't  you  see  it?"  she  asked.  No;  he 
could  n't.  "You  can't  see  it?"  No.  There  was  a  slight 
commotion  as  she  spoke,  and  as  Dundreary  assured  her  for 


Collection  of  Americana,  F.  H.  JMeserve. 

LAURA  KEEXE 


\Vho\vasmaking  her  last  appearance  in  Washington,  in  "Our  American 
Cousin,"  presented  at  Ford's  Theatre  on  the  evening  Lincoln  was 


assassinated. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  91 

the  second  time  that  he  couldn't  "see  it,"  she  looked 
up  and  saw  the  Presidential  party  entering  the  state  box. 
"Well,  everybody  can  see  that!"  she  said,  quickly  im 
provising  and  looking  meaningly  at  the  Chief  Executive 
as  she  made  a  sweeping  curtsejf*/  Then  the  orchestra 
struck  up  "Hail  to  the  Chief,"  the  audience  cheered  and 
cheered,  and  for  several  moments  the  play  was  at  a 
standstill,  while  Mr.  Lincoln  bowed  and  smiled  his 
appreciation  of  the  ovation. 

When  the  party  sat  down,  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  on  the 
President's  right;  Miss  Harris  next  to  her  on  her  right; 
and  nearest  to  the  stage,  sitting  on  the  end  of  the  sofa, 
was  young  Major  Rathbone.2 

During  the  next  two  hours  the  President  moved  from 
his  seat  but  once,  and  that  was  to  rise  and  put  on  his 
overcoat.  The  night  was  warm;  no  one  else  seemed  to 
feel  any  chill;  but  something  that  did  not  strike  the 
bared  shoulders  of  the  ladies  in  the  box,  made  the  tall, 
gaunt  man  in  black  broadcloth  shiver  —  and  he  got  up 
and  put  on  his  overcoat. 

Between  9.30  and  10  John  Booth  appeared  at  the 
stage-door  leading  his  horse  which  he  must  have  had  to 

1  Told  the  present  writer  by  Mr.  George  C.  Maynard,  then  of  the  War  Telegraph 
Office,  now  of  the  National  Museum,  who  made  a  note  of  Miss  Keene's  interpolation 
on  his  programme  at  the  time. 

a  C.  T.  p.  78,  Major  Rathbone.    See  Major  Rathbone's  statement,  Appendix  XVIII. 


92  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

saddle  for  himself,  since  all  the  theatre  hands  were  busy 
at  their  respective  posts.  At  the  door  he  saw  J.  L. 
Debonay,  who  played  what  was  called  "  responsible 
utility"  at  the  theatre,  taking  the  part  that  night  of 
John  Wigger,  the  gardener.  To  Debonay,  John  said: 
"Tell  Spangler  to  come  to  the  door  and  hold  my  horse." 
Debonay  went  across  the  stage  to  Spangler's  position, 
which  was  on  the  same  side  with  the  President's  box, 
while  the  stage-door  was  at  the  "prompt  side,"  and  said 
to  Spangler:  "Mr.  Booth  wants  to  see  you."  Spangler 
went  to  the  stage  door  and  explained  to  Mr.  Booth  that 
he  could  not  hold  his  horse  because  Mr.  Gifford,  the 
stage-carpenter,  was  out  in  front  and  had  left  the  respon 
sibility  of  the  next  change  on  Spangler.  "Tell  Peanut 
John  to  come  here  and  hold  this  horse,"  Spangler  called 
to  Debonay,  "I  haven't  time."  So  Debonay  called 
Peanuts,  who  was  on  duty  at  the  stage  door.  Peanuts 
objected  that  he  had  his  door  to  tend,  but  Spangler  said 
it  would  be  all  right  to  hold  the  horse,  but  if  there  was 
anything  wrong  about  it  to  lay  the  blame  on  him.  Pea 
nuts  had  a  bench  in  the  alley  by  the  door,  and  as  he  sat 
there  on  guard  he  held  the  bridle-rein  of  Mr.  Booth's 
horse. 

\     When  he  had  left  the  horse  in  charge  of  Peanuts,  John 
Booth  went  on  the  stage  and  inquired  of  Debonay  if  he 


Collection  of  Mr.  Robert  Coster. 

ABRAHAM  LIXCOLX  ABOUT  1865 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  93 

could  cross  it.  Debonay  said  No;  the  dairy  scene  was 
on,  and  he  would  have  to  go  down  under  the  stage  and 
come  up  on  the  other  side.  This  Booth  did,  Debonay 
going  with  him  under  the  stage,  through  the  little  side 
passage  on  the  south  end  of  the  basement  floor,  and  out 
on  to  Tenth  Street.1 

Now,  Booth  knew  perfectly  the  situations  of  the  play 
in  progress  —  knew  that  in  the  second  scene  of  the  third 
act  there  was  a  brief  time  when  only  Asa  Trenchard  was 
on  the  stage  and  few  of  the  other  players  were  in  the 
wings  awaiting  cues.  This  was  his  time  to  strike,  and 
it  occurred  about  twenty  minutes  past  ten.  7 

After  the  curtain  went  up  on  the  third  act,  Booth 
stepped  to  the  front  door  where  Buckingham,  the  door 
keeper —  his  attention  being  directed  for  the  moment 
to  something  in  the  house  —  had  placed  his  right  arm 
as  a  barrier  across  the  doorway  so  that  none  might  pass 
without  his  knowledge.  Some  one  came  up  behind  him, 
took  two  fingers  of  that  hand  and  shook  them,  and  Buck 
ingham  turned  to  look.  It  was  Mr.  John,  smiling  his 
boyish  smile.  "You  don't  want  a  ticket  from  me,  do 
you?"  he  asked  jocularly.  And  Buckingham  smiled 
back  at  him  and  said  he  " guessed  not" — just  as  he 
would  have  said  to  young  Harry  Ford. 

1  C.  T.  pp.  74,  81,  105,  Burroughs,  John  Miles,  J.  L.  Debonay. 


94  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Booth  went  into  the  house,  looked  around,  and  came  out 
almost  immediately.  When  he  returned  to  the  door, 
Buckingham  was  talking  to  some  out-ol'-town  acquain 
tances  who  were  in  the  audience ,  and  when  the  dis 
tinguished  young  tragedian  passed  him  the  popular 
doorkeeper  halted  him  and  introduced  his  acquaintances, 
to  whom,  even  in  that  awful  hour,  John  made  some 
genial  remarks. 

He  seems  to  have  hovered  about  the  door,  nervously,  for 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  more.  Once  he  asked  Buckingham 
the  time;  once  he  asked  for  a  chew  of  tobacco  and  was 
accommodated.  About  ten  minutes  past  ten  he  went  into 
the  restaurant  on  the  south  and  took  a  drink  of  whisky, 
came  quickly  out,  passed  Buckingham  at  the  door,  hum 
ming  a  tune  as  he  went,  ascended  the  stairs  to  the  dress 
circle,  and  walked  down  along  the  south  wall  of  the 
theatre  close  to  the  entrance  of  the  President's  box.1 

One  or  two  persons  said  they  saw  him  standing  there. 
One  man  (Captain  Theodore  McGowan)  actually  thought 
he  saw  Booth  take  out  a  visiting-card  and  hand  it  to  the 
" President's  messenger";2  he  so  testified  at  the  conspiracy 
trial.  There  was,  of  course,  no  sentry  at  the  door;  no 
one  was  there.  John  Parker,  who  had  gone  to  the  theatre 


1  C.  T.  p.  73,  John  E.  Buckingham.      Buckingham's  book,  p.  13.     Also  Mr.  Buck 
ingham's  statements  to  the  present  writer. 
2C.  T.  p.  78,  Captain  McGowan. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  95 

as  the  President's  guard,  had  left  his  post  at  the  door  to 
the  passage-way,  and  gone  to  a  seat  in  the  dress  circle, 
whence  he  could  better  see  the  play.  Booth  had  no  one  to 
elude,  no  one  to  make  pretext  to;  his  movements  were 
entirely  unchallenged.  The  play  waxed  funnier  and 
funnier,  more  and  more  absorbing.  Every  eye  in  the 
house  was  fixed  otherwise  than  on  that  door  —  every  eye 
but  John  Booth's.1 

On  the  stage,  there  was  a  tart  dialogue  going  on  between 
Asa  Trenchard  and  a  designing  old  woman,  Mrs.  Mount- 
chessington,  who  presently  flounced  off  with  a  taunt  about 
Asa's  unaccustomedness  to  society. 

"Society,  eh?"  said  Asa,  looking  after  her.  "Well,  I 
guess  I  know  enough  to  turn  you  inside  out,  you  darned  old 
sockdolaging  man-trap!"8 

Shouts  of  laughter  greeted  this  characteristic  defence  of 
* 'Our  American  Cousin, "and  while  they  were  rolling  across 
the  footlights  there  mingled  with  them  a  sharper  sound  — 
a  pistol  report.  Booth  had  stepped  into  the  passage 
way,  dropped  the  bar  of  wood  in  place  to  hold  the  door 
against  ingress,  entered  the  box  and,  shouting  "Sic  semper 
tyrannis"  fired  a  Deringer  pistol  a  few  inches  from  the 
President's  head.  For  a  second  or  two  the  audience 


1  "  Lincoln's  Last  Day,"  by  Colonel  W.  H.  Crook,  Harper's  Magazine.  September 
1907.  P-  527. 

2  Statement  of  Harry  Hawk  (Asa  Trenchard),  see  Appendiz  XIX, 


96  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

thought  the  shooting  was  behind  the  scenes,  a  part  of  the 
play;  not  an  eye  turned  toward  the  state  box  where  Major 
Rathbone  was  grappling  with  the  assassin.  Booth 
had  dropped  his  pistol  when  it  was  fired  and  drawn  a 
large  knife  with  which  he  slashed  Major  Rathbone,  strik 
ing  for  his  breast  but  gashing  instead  the  left  arm  which 
the  major  thrust  up  to  parry  the  blow.  Notwithstanding 
his  wound,  the  major  grabbed  at  the  assassin  as  he  was 
preparing  to  leap  from  the  box  to  the  stage  fourteen  feet 
below,  but  he  was  unable  to  hold  him.  All  this  happened 
in  far  fewer  seconds  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  and  almost 
before  any  one  could  realize  that  there  was  something 
wrong,  Booth  had  jumped  and  fallen,  his  left  leg  doubled 
under  him,  was  instantly  up  again  and  running  across  the 
front  of  the  stage.  Almost  simultaneously,  Mrs.  Lincoln's 
heart-rending  cry  rang  out  and  Major  Rathbone  shouted 
"  Catch  that  man! "  But,  for  a  paralyzed  moment,  no  one 
stirred.1 

Impeded  in  his  jump  —  which  ordinarily  would  have 
been  nothing  to  one  of  his  athletic  training  —  by  Rath- 
bone's  clutch,  Booth  had  caught  his  spur  in  the  Treasury 
flag,  gashed  the  frame  of  Washington's  picture,  and  broken 
the  small  bone  of  his  left  leg  in  the  heavy  fall.  But  he  was 

1  C.  T.  pp.  76,  78,  79,  Ferguson,  Withers,  Stewart.  Statements  of  Major  Rathbone 
and  Miss  Harris  before  Judge  Olin,  April  i7th,  see  Appendix  XX.  "  Diary  of  Booth," 
see  Part  III.,  p.  132. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  97 

down  scarcely  an  appreciable  moment,  and  before  any  one 
in  the  house  or  on  the  stage  could  realize  what  he  had  done, 
he  had  reached  the  prompt  entrance  and  was  running 
through  the  cleared  passage  leading  to  the  stage  door.1 

Some  of  the  spectators,  when  they  got  to  thinking  about 
it  afterward,  felt  sure  Booth  stopped  in  the  centre-front, 
of  the  stage,  brandished  his  dagger,  and  yelled  "The  South  ' 
is  avenged!"  Some  thought  he  shouted  "Sic  semper" 
as  he  struck  the  stage;  some  that  he  shouted  it  as  he  ran. 
Nobody  really  knows  whether  he  said  anything  as  he  ran  — 
certainly  he  did  n't  stop  to  say  it!  He  was  fleeing  for  his 
life  and  he  wasted  no  time  on  speeches.  He  crossed  the 
stage  some  feet  in  front  of  Harry  Hawk  (Asa  Trenchard), 
ran  between  Miss  Keene  and  W.  J.  Ferguson  standing 
in  the  passage  near  the  prompt  entrance,2  rushed  past 
Withers,  the  orchestra  leader,  who  was  on  his  way  to  the 
stairs  close  by  the  back  door,  and  as  Withers  stood  stock 
still  in  his  way,  Booth  struck  at  him  with  the  knife,  knock 
ing  him  down,  made  a  rush  for  the  door,  and  was  gone.' 

Joseph  B.  Stewart,  who  sat  in  the  front  row  on  the  right 
hand  side  of  the  orchestra  almost  directly  under  the  Presi 
dent's  box,  was  the  first  man  on  the  stage.  He  thought  he 
was  there  a  very  few  seconds  after  the  shot  was  fired  and 

1  C.  T.  p.  76,  Ferguson;  Buckingham,  p.  13. 

2  Interview  with  W.  J.  Ferguson,  by  Ada  Patterson,  in  Theatre  Magazine  for  May, 
1908. 

3C.   T.   p.   79,   William   Withers. 


98  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

that  he  pursued  Booth  closely,  being  within  thirty  feet  of 
him  when  he  went  out  of  the  door.  Others  present  felt 
equally  sure  that  Stewart  was  not  on  the  stage  until  Booth 
was  off  it,  and  no  other  testimony  corroborated  Stewart's 
account  of  the  iminediateness  of  his  pursuit.  He  did,  how 
ever,  rush  after  the  fleeing  assassin,  shouting  "Stop  that 
man!"  and  whether  he  came  as  near  to  grasping  Booth's 
bridle  as  he  thought  he  did,  he  was  in  the  alley  soon  after 
Booth  had  left  it.1  But  before  any  one  seemed  to  have 
sense  to  think  of  pursuit,  the  clattering  of  hoofs  on  the 
stone-paved  alley  had  died  away,  and  the  President's 
murderer  was  swallowed  up  in  the  night.2 

Meanwhile,  in  that  upper  box,  the  tall,  gaunt  man  in 
the  rocking-chair  had  not  changed  his  position,  the  smile 
he  wore  over  Asa's  last  sally  had  not  even  given  place  to 
a  look  of  pain  —  so  lightning-quick  had  unconsciousness 
come.  The  head  was  bent  slightly  forward,  the  eyes  were 
closed;  Mrs.  Lincoln  had  clutched  his  arm,  but  had  not 
moved  from  her  seat;  neither  had  Miss  Harris.  At  the 
barred  door  to  the  passage-way  many  persons  were  pound 
ing  frantically,  and  Major  Rathbone,  staggering  to  the 
door,  found  the  bar,  removed  it,  and  of  those  seeking 
admittance  allowed  several  who  represented  themselves 
to  be  surgeons  to  come  in.  Another  surgeon  was  lifted 

1  C.  T.  p.  79,  Joseph  B.  Stewart. 

2  See  Appendix  XXI:  Note  about  Edwin  Booth  in  Boston. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  99 

up  into  the  box  from  the  stage,1  and  almost  as  soon  as 
any  to  reach  the  scene  of  tragedy  was  Miss  Keene,  who 
took  the  President's  head  into  her  lap. 

There  was  a  slight  delay  in  locating  the  wound;  some 
looked  for  it  in  the  breast  and  tore  open  the  President's 
shirt.  Dr.  Charles  Taft,  who  had  been  lifted  into  the  box, 
located  the  wound  behind  the  left  ear,  and  countermanded 
the  order  just  given  for  the  President's  carriage.  The  ride 
over  the  then  cobble-paved  streets  of  Washington  was  not 
to  be  thought  of,  and  Dr.  Taft  directed  that  instead  the 
nearest  bed  be  sought.  He  lifted  the  President's  head 
from  which  the  blood  and  brain  tissue  was  oozing  rapidly, 
and,  others  helping  with  the  rest  of  the  long,  inert  body, 
a  shutter  was  impressed  for  service  as  a  litter,  and  the 
horror-stricken  little  procession  went  along  the  upper 
'lobby  toward  the  stairs.  At  the  head  of  the  staircase, 
Major  Rathbone,  who  was  assisting  Mrs.  Lincoln,  had  to 
ask  Major  Potter  to  help  him,  as  he  was  fainting  from  the 
loss  of  blood  from  his  arm.2 

Across  Tenth  Street  from  the  theatre  was  the  four- 
story  brick  house  of  William  Peterson,  a  tailor,  who  sub 
let  most  of  the  rooms  to  lodgers.  The  front  door  of  the 
house  was  open  when  those  bearing  the  dying  President 
reached  the  street,  and  a  man  was  standing  on  the  steps. 

1  Dr.  Charles  Taft.    See  his  statement  in  the  Century  Magazine,  Feb.  1893,  p.  634. 
2C.   T.    p.    78,    Rathbone. 


100  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Dr.  Taft  directed  the  other  bearers  thither  and  the  man 
-Peterson  —  rushed  in  and  shouted  "The  President  is 
coming!"1  Then  he  disappeared.  He  was  a  drunken, 
cruel  fellow  whose  much-abused  wife  was  on  a  brief  visit 
to  Baltimore. 

Down  the  stairs  from  the  floors  above  came  several 
young  men  lodgers,  meeting  the  bearers  as  they  entered  the 
hall  with  their  burden.  At  the  end  of  the  hall  was  a  long, 
narrow  bedroom  whose  tenant,  a  young  soldier  named 
Willie  Clark,  was  not  in.2  On  Willie's  neat  little  bed  the 
President  was  laid  —  cornerwise,  as  only  that  way  could 
his  great  length  be  accommodated  —  and  messengers 
were  sent  in  every  direction,  for  Captain  Lincoln,  for  the 
members  of  the  Cabinet,  for  the  Surgeon-General,  for  the 
President's  private  physician,  Dr.  Stone,  for  his  pastor, 
Dr.  Gurley,  of  the  New  York  Avenue  Presbyterian  Church, 
and  for  others  whose  right  it  was  to  share  in  the  closing 
scenes  of  the  great  Emancipator's  life. 

Up  at  the  White  House  the  evening  passed  quietly  after 
the  President  and  Mrs.  Lincoln  left  for  the  theatre.  An 
old  college  chum  had  called  on  Captain  Robert  and  stayed, 

1  Statement  to  the  present  writer  by  Mr.  Henry  Ulke,  portrait  painter,  who  was  then 
one  of  the  lodgers  in  the  Peterson  house.     Mr.  Ulke  and  his  brother  went  up  and  down 
the  basement  stairs  all  night,  carrying  bottles  which  they  constantly  re-filled  with  hot 
water;  the  surgeons  laid  these  bottles  along  the  President's  limbs  in  the  hope  of  relax 
ing   their   rigour. 

2  See  Willie  Clark's  letter,  Appendix  XXII. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  101 

talking  and  smoking  in  the  captain's  room,  until  about 
ten  o'clock.  He  had  just  gone  when  one  of  the  sergeants 
of  the  Invalid  Corps,  who  was  doing  duty  at  the  White 
House,  rang  the  bell  and  told  Tom  Pendel,  who  opened  the 
door,  that  an  attempt  had  been  made  to  kill  Secretary 
Seward  by  cutting  his  throat.  Pendel  thought  the  rumour 
a  false  one,  arising  with  some  person  who  did  not  know  of 
the  Secretary's  broken  jaw.  In  a  few  minutes,  however, 
the  sergeant  returned,  rang  again,  and  said  it  was  true 
about  Mr.  Seward.1 

It  was  a  little  after  half-past  ten  when  Pendel,  looking 
out,  saw  a  number  of  excited  persons  hurrying  toward  the 
east  gate  of  the  White  House.  In  the  lead  were  Senators 
Sumner,  Stewart,  and  Conness,  who  had  just  come  from 
Secretary  Seward 's  house  on  a  run.2  Sumner  asked 
Pendel,  who  went  out  to  see  what  the  matter  was,  for  news 
of  the  President,  and  Pendel  said:  "Mr.  Senator,  I  wish 
you  would  go  down  to  the  theatre  and  see  if  anything  has 
happened." 

Just  then  there  was  the  sound  of  furious  driving; 
a  carriage  turned  in  at  the  north  gate  of  the  White  House 
grounds  and  hardly  slackened  speed  as  it  approached 
the  portico.  Captain  Robert  Lincoln,  who  had  not  yet 
retired,  heard  the  approach  of  the  carriage  and  stepped 

1  "  Thirty-six  Years  in  the  White  House,"  by  Thomas  C.  Pendel,  pp.  40-45. 

2  "  Reminiscences  of  W.  M.  Stewart,"  p.  igi. 


102  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

to  the  open  window  of  his  room  to  look  out.  He  saw 
several  persons  alight  in  evident  excitement,  and  his 
immediate  thought  was  that  they  were  come  on  one  of 
those  life  or  death  errands  which  brought  so  many  frantic 
petitioners  to  the  White  House  at  all  sorts  of  hours;  it 
being  a  strict  rule  of  the  President  that  they  were  to  be 
admitted  without  delay  and  brought  to  him,  no  matter 
what  time  they  came.  Not  many  ever  came  in  vain, 
and  Captain  Lincoln  felt  regretful  that  this  time  anxious 
petitioners  for  a  life  must  turn  away  disappointed  —  or 
wait.1 

No  one  knows,  to  this  day,  who  was  in  that  carriage, 
or  if  any  one  does  he  has  not  gone  on  record.  Pendel 
says  it  was  Isaac  Newton,  the  Commissioner  of  Agricul 
ture;  Senator  Stewart  says  "one  of  the  attache's  of  the 
White  House";  Captain  Lincoln  says  he  has  n't  the  least 
idea  who  it  was.  But  somebody,  fresh  from  Tenth 
Street,  brought  the  news  of  the  assassination,  and  Senator 
Conness  said:  "This  is  a  conspiracy  to  murder  the  entire 
Cabinet."2  And  he  ordered  the  sergeants  on  duty  to 
"Go  immediately  to  Secretary  Stanton's  house  and 
prevent  his  assassination  if  possible."  The  soldiers 
started  instantly  and  ran  at  top  speed  until  they  reached 
Stanton's  house  where,  according  to  Senator  Stewart, 

1  Told  by  Mr.  Robert  Lincoln  to  the  present  writer. 

2  Stewart,  p.  191. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  103 

they  saw  "a  man  on  the  steps  who  had  just  rung  the 
bell.  Seeing  them  he  took  fright  and  ran  away  and  was 
never  afterward  heard  of.  When  the  soldiers  ran  up  the 
steps  Stanton  himself  had  come  to  the  door  in  response 
to  the  ring.  Had  the  soldiers  been  a  few  minutes  later  I 
have  no  doubt  that  Stanton  also  would  have  been  one  of 
the  victims  of  the  plot." 

The  three  Senators  went  directly  to  Tenth  Street. 
The  messengers,  accompanied  by  Pendel,  went  upstairs  to 
break  the  news  to  Captain  Lincoln  and  get  him  to  go 
immediately  to  the  Peterson  house.  Pendel  says  it  was 
he  who  told,  and  that  what  he  said  was:  "Captain,  there 
has  something  happened  to  the  President.  You  had 
better  go  down  to  the  theatre  and  see  what  it  is."  Captain 
Lincoln  understoood  that  his  father  had  been  shot. 
"Where?"  he  asked.  "In  the  arm,"  he  thought  some 
body  told  him.  "That  is  nothing,"  he  said.  "I  am 
grateful  that  he  got  off  so  easy."  And  he  quite  cheer 
fully  made  ready  to  go  to  his  father.  Major  Hay,  who 
roomed  at  the  White  House,  was  also  informed,  and 
immediately  made  ready  to  obey  the  summons  to  Tenth 
Street.  As  he  was  leaving,  he  gave  Pendel  orders  to 
allow  no  one  to  enter  the  White  House. 

Pendel  knew  the  seriousness  of  the  President's  con 
dition,  if  not  the  hopelessness  of  it,  and  it  was  with  stream- 


104  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

ing  eyes  and  a  breaking  heart  that  he  took  up  his  position 
at  the  door.  Presently  there  was  a  sound  of  some  one 
coming  to  the  east  door  downstairs  and  up  the  inner 
stairway  from  the  basement.  Pendel  turned  to  look, 
and  in  a  moment  a  small  figure  rushed  at  him  in  a  wild 
abandon  of  grief.  It  was  poor  little  Tad,  who  had  heard 
the  awful  news  at  Grover's  Theatre.  He  buried  his 
head  in  the  breast  of  his  kind  crony,  the  doorkeeper, 
and  sobbed,  "O  Tom  Pen!  Tom  Pen!  they've  killed 
my  papa  dead  —  they  've  killed  my  papa  dead!" 

It  was  almost  midnight  when  Pendel  got  the  little  lad 
sufficiently  pacified  to  go  upstairs  to  bed.  Up  there,  in 
the  room  that  seemed  so  empty  of  the  great,  kind  presence 
that  was  always,  no  matter  what  sorrows  oppressed  it, 
full  of  tender  playfulness  with  Tad,  the  doorkeeper 
undressed  the  inconsolable  boy  and  helped  him  into 
bed,  then  lay  down  beside  him  soothing  him  and  talking 
to  him  till  he  fell  asleep.1 

It  was  a  little  before  ten  o'clock  when  a  man  came 
hurriedly  to  the  door  of  Justice  Cartter,  who  lived  on 
Fifteenth  Street  near  H,  and  asked  if  Surgeon-General 
Barnes  were  there.  The  messenger  had  come  from 
the  Surgeon-General's  residence  in  all  haste  to  fetch 
the  doctor  to  Secretary  Seward's.  The  Surgeon-General 

1  Told  by  Pendel  to  the  present  writer. 


Collection  of  Americana,  F.  li.  Meserve. 

LINCOLN  AND  His  SON,  TAD 
Said  to  have  been  made  shortly  before  the  assassination. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  105 

had  been  playing  whist  in  the  library,  and  hearing  the 
inquiry  for  him  he  came  into  the  hall  and  asked  what 
was  the  matter.  When  told  that  an  attempt  had  been 
made  to  assassinate  Secretary  Seward,  he  and  Justice 
Cartter  at  once  went  around  the  corner  to  Mr.  Seward 's 
house,  where  they  found  a  scene  of  indescribable  horror 
and  confusion.1 

Less  than  half  an  hour  ago  Lewis  Payne  had  come  to 
the  Seward  house.  William  Bell,  a  coloured  boy  who  was 
"second  waiter,"  went  to  the  door,  and  when  it  was 
opened  Payne  stepped  inside.  "He  had  a  little  package 
in  his  hand;  he  said  it  was  medicine  for  Mr.  Seward 
from  Dr.  Verdi,  and  that  he  was  sent  by  Dr.  Verdi  to 
direct  Mr.  Seward  how  to  take  it."  Bell  told  him  he 
could  not  go  upstairs  —  that  it  was  against  orders  for 
anybody  to  be  allowed  up  —  but  if  Payne  would  give 
him  the  medicine  and  tell  him  the  directions,  he  would 
take  it  up  and  tell  Mr.  Seward's  nurse.  All  the  time 
Bell  was  expostulating  Payne  was  walking  along  the 
hall  toward  the  stairs,  the  medicine  in  his  left  hand  and 
his  right  hand  in  the  pocket  of  his  light  overcoat.  His 
manner  was  so  convincing  that  the  coloured  boy  began 
to  believe  himself  wrong  in  barring  the  way,  and  followed 
Payne  up  the  stairs,  begging  pardon  for  having  told  him 

1  Buckingham,  p.  ig. 


106  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

he  must  not  go  up.  "Oh,  I  know,  that 's  all  right!" 
Payne  assured  him,  and  went  on  —  Bell  at  his  heels  en 
treating  him  not  to  walk  so  heavily. 

At  the  top  of  the  stairs  Payne  encountered  Mr.  Fred 
erick  Seward,  a  son  of  the  Secretary,  and  when  the  mes 
sage  about  the  medicine  was  repeated  to  Mr.  Frederick 
he  went  into  his  father's  room,  coming  out  almost  imme 
diately  with  word  that  the  Secretary  was  asleep  and  the 
medicine  could  not  be  delivered  to  him  now.  There  was 
an  argument  lasting  perhaps  five  minutes,  then  Payne 

turned  on  his  heel  saying:  "Well,  if  I  cannot  see  him " 

and  started  down  the  stairs  preceded  by  Bell.  They 
had  gone  but  a  few  steps  when  Payne  turned  back,  made 
a  rush  at  Mr.  Frederick,  severely  wounding  him  in  the 
head  with  the  butt  of  a  pistol  which  broke  in  the  furious 
blows.  Mr.  Frederick  fell  back  into  his  sister's  room. 
She  screamed,  and  aroused  another  brother,  Major 
Augustus  H.  Seward,  who  had  retired  at  7.30,  expecting 
to  be  called  at  eleven  to  sit  up  with  his  father.  Sergeant 
George  F.  Robinson,  who  was  acting  as  nurse  to  the 
Secretary,  opened  the  door  of  the  Secretary's  room  at 
the  sound  of  the  scuffle  in  the  hall,  and  was  immediately 
struck  in  the  forehead  by  Payne's  heavy  knife,  and  held 
aside  while  Payne  rushed  into  the  dimly-lighted  room 
and  threw  himself  upon  the  prostrate  Secretary,  striking 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  107 

wildly  at  his  victim's  neck  with  the  knife.  When  Major 
Seward  reached  his  father's  room  and  saw  the  "two 
men,  one  trying  to  hold  the  other,"  his  first  thought  was 
that  his  father  had  become  delirious  and  attacked  his 
nurse.  So  he  seized  the  uppermost  man  and  dragged 
him  off,  but  soon  discovered  from  the  man's  size  and 
strength  that  he  was  not  the  Secretary.  Then  Major 
Seward  thought  Sergeant  Robinson  had  gone  out  of  his 
mind,  and  he  made  a  heroic  effort  to  get  this  infuriated 
person  out  of  the  room  so  as  not  further  to  endanger  or 
alarm  the  Secretary. 

While  this  encounter  was  in  progress  the  assailant 
kept  striking  at  Major  Seward 's  head  and  repeating  in 
an  intense  voice  "I  'm  mad!  I  'm  mad!"  On  reaching 
the  hall  he  gave  a  sudden  turn  and  sprang  away,  disap 
pearing  down  the  stairs,  but  not  before  he  had  also 
wounded  Emrick  W.  Hansell,  another  nurse. 

During  those  few  bloody  minutes  that  Payne  was 
upstairs,  Bell  had  run  to  give  the  alarm,  and  was  just 
returning  to  the  house  when  he  saw  Payne  rush  down 
the  steps,  spring  on  to  a  horse,  and  ride  north  to  I  Street, 
west  to  Fifteen-and-a-half  Street,  and  thence  at  a 
gallop  into  Vermont  Avenue. 

When  General  Barnes  and  Justice  Cartter  got  to  the 
house  they  found  Dr.  Verdi  already  there  attending  to 


108  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

the  five  wounded  men,  of  whom  the  Secretary  was  the 
least  seriously  hurt,  because  the  assailant's  knife  had 
struck  the  steel  frame  binding  the  fractured  jaw,  and 
glanced  off  without  inflicting  the  mortal  hurt  it  must 
otherwise  have  accomplished.1 

General  Barnes  was  occupied  with  the  Secretary  and 
his  gravely  wounded  son,  Mr.  Frederick,  Dr.  Verdi 
dressing  the  hurts  of  the  others,  when  a  "night  liner" 
(hack)  was  driven  rapidly  to  the  door  and  the  bell  was 
violently  pulled.  Justice  Cartter  went  to  the  door  and 
found  the  negro  hackman  who  said  that  the  President 
had  been  shot  and  taken  to  a  house  on  Tenth  Street,  and 
that  he  had  been  sent  to  fetch  General  Barnes  to  the 
President's  bedside  The  hackman  had  been  sent  to 
General  Barnes's  house,  thence  to  Justice  Cartter's,  where 
he  was  told  of  the  assault  on  Secretary  Seward,  and  was 
now  here  and  very  thoroughly  frightened. 

Justice  Cartter  went  to  Mr.  Se ward's  room,  called 
General  Barnes  aside,  and  told  him  of  the  demand  for  his 
presence  at  another  bedside.  Explanation  was  then 
made  to  Major  Seward  for  their  abrupt  leaving,  and 
Justice  and  Surgeon-General  hurried  into  the  hack 
telling  the  driver  not  to  spare  his  horses.  But  the  negro 
was  so  panic-stricken  that  he  declared  he  would  n't  drive 

1  C.  T.  pp.  154,  157,  W.  H.  Bell,  George  F.  Robinson,  Major  Augustus  Seward,  Sur 
geon-General   Barnes,  Doctor  T.   S.   Verdi. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  109 

back  into  that  crowd  around  Tenth  Street  for  all  the 
money  in  Washington.  Whereupon  Justice  Cartter,  a 
powerful  man,  jumped  out  of  the  carriage,  seized  the 
negro  from  the  box,  thrust  him  inside  with  General 
Barnes,  mounted  the  driver's  seat,  and  drove  furiously 
toward  Tenth  Street.  At  Eleventh  and  F,  the  guard 
already  in  effect  to  keep  back  the  frantic  populace  from 
the  scene  of  the  tragedy  attempted  to  hold  them,  but 
the  Justice,  shouting  that  the  Surgeon-General  was 
inside,  never  slackened  until  he  pulled  up  in  front  of  the 
Peterson  house.1 

Secretaries  Stanton  and  Welles  were  already  there,  as 
were  Captain  Lincoln  and  Major  Hay,  and  all  looked 
anxiously  to  the  Surgeon-General  to  see  if  he  could  not 
give  some  more  hopeful  diagnosis  than  that  already  given ; 
by  Dr.  Taft  and  Dr.  Stone.  But  the  Surgeon-General, 
carefully  and  tenderly  noting  where  the  ball  had  entered 
and  the  course  it  took  (obliquely  upward  to  a  point 
behind  the  right  eye),  could  only  shake  his  head  sadly. 
He  could  not  say  how  long  the  President's  great  vitality 
might  fight  off  dissolution,  but  there  was  no  possible 
hope  —  none.2 

Soon  Senators  Sumner,  Stewart,  and  Conness  came, 
and    General   Barnes   told   them   that   while   they  were 

1  Buckingham,  p.  20. 
a  C.  T.  p.  81  Dr.  Stone. 


110  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

privileged  to  enter  the  President's  death-chamber,  being 
Senators,  ''there  are  too  many  people  in  there  hastening 
the  President's  death."  Whereupon  Senators  Stewart 
and  Conness  retired,  but  Sumner  rushed  into  the  little 
room  declaring:  "I  will  go  in.  Nothing  could  keep 
Charles  Sumner  out."1 

Outside,  the  city  seethed  with  excitement.  Rumours 
grew  wilder  and  wilder  as  the  night  grew  old.  When 
the  papers  went  to  press  at  two  o'clock  it  was  impossible 
for  them  to  say  just  what  had  really  happened2  except 
that  a  man,  declared  by  some  to  be  John  Wilkes  Booth, 
an  actor,  had  fatally  shot  the  President,  and  a  man 
believed  to  be  John  H.  Surratt  had  stabbed  the  Secretary 
of  State.  Rumours  of  Grant's  assassination  on  the  train 
which  was  carrying  him  north  were  rife.  Rumours  of  a 
vast  conspiracy  to  kill  all  the  heads  of  Government,  to  burn 
and  sack  Washington,  to  install  Jefferson  Davis  in  the 
White  House,  were  passing  from  mouth  to  mouth  and 
growing,  as  they  passed,  like  genii  out  of  a  bottle.  There 
was  a  frenzy  of  feeling  against  the  South,  against  actors, 
against  Copperheads. 

The  panic-stricken  mob  in  Ford's  Theatre  had  begun 

1  Stewart,  p.  192. 

2 The  National  Intelligencer,  Washington,  when  it  went  to  press  at  2  A.  M.,  said: 
"  Rumours  are  so  thick,  the  excitement  of  this  hour  is  so  intense,  that  we  rely  entirely 
upon  our  reporters  to  advise  the  public  of  the  details  and  results  of  this  night  of  horrors. 
Evidently  conspirators  are  among  us."  Appendix  XXIII:  Note  on  despatches  of  the  night. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  111 

to  shout:  "Burn  the  theatre!"  when  they  realized  that  it 
was  the  assassin  of  the  President  who  had  fled  across 
the  stage.  And  the  same  unthinking  fury  characterized 
many  of  the  mobs  that  surged  through  the  streets  all  night. 
The  one  voice  that  hushed  them,  that  stayed  violence,  was 
the  voice  of  that  man  in  any  crowd  who  would  climb 
anything  that  might  elevate  him  where  he  could  be  heard, 
and  entreat:  "Hush!  Stop!  What  would  Mr.  Lincoln 
say  if  he  could  talk  to  you  ?"* 

The  proprietor  of  the  National  Hotel,  who  had  been  in 
the  audience  at  Ford's  Theatre,  was  a  noted  shot.  When 
he  saw  the  man  leap  from  the  President's  box  he  stood  up 
and  cried :  "That  man  has  shot  the  President f  Somebody 
give  me  a  pistol."  But  before  any  one  could  get  a  pistol 
to  him,  the  mad  rush  across  the  stage  was  over  —  the  man 
had  gone.  Into  the  office  of  the  National  Hotel  about  two 
in  the  morning,  came  soldiers  saying  the  man  —  the 
assassin  —  was  John  Booth.  "  Impossible  '."they  told  the 
soldiers  —  these  men  who  knew  John  Booth  so  well. 
And  all  night  long,  that  night  of  terror,  they  watched  the 
door  for  John  to  come  in  —  to  come  walking  blithely  in  as 
was  his  wont,  and  give  the  lie  to  this  foul  story.* 

Up  on  Tenth  Street  it  was  quiet.  Cavalry  patrolled  E 
and  F  Streets  as  far  as  Ninth  Street  on  the  east  and 

1  Stewart,  p.   193. 

2  Told  the  present  writer  by  Mr.  Burton. 


112  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Eleventh  Street  on  the  west,  and  kept  at  bay  every  one 
who  had  not  urgent  business  within  those  lines. 

The  parlour  floor  of  the  Peterson  house  had  a  front  and 
a  back  parlour  and  a  bedroom  at  the  end  of  a  long,  narrow 
hall.  In  the  front  parlour,  on  a  sofa,  Mrs.  Lincoln  sat, 
comforted  as  best  he  could  by  young  Captain  Lincoln,  who 
came  from  time  to  time  from  his  mother's  side  into  the 
chamber  of  death.  At  long  intervals  Mrs.  Lincoln  went 
into  the  room  where  her  husband  lay,  but  was  unable  to 
stay  for  more  than  a  few  moments  at  a  time.1 

In  the  back  parlour,  which  was  often  used  as  a  bedroom 
and  then  had  in  it  a  bed  not  made  up,  Secretary  Stanton 
sat  at  a  small  table  commanding  a  view  of  the  hallway 
and  all  who  approached  the  little  room  at  the  end.  There 
he  wrote  despatches  announcing  the  tragedy,  there  he  sat 
and  questioned  the  first  obtainable  witnesses  —  Corporal 
James  Tanner  taking  down  the  testimony,  and  Assistant- 
Secretary  of  War  Charles  A.  Dana  directing  the  sending 
of  orders  for  precaution  (particularly  in  the  case  of  General 
Grant)  and  for  the  arrest  of  persons  mentioned  as  likely 
to  have  complicity  in  the  two  murderous  deeds.2 

Through  the  house,  above  the  soft  footfalls  of  those 
ministering  to  the  dying,  above  the  hushed  tones  of  Stanton 

1  Statements    of    Mr.    Field,    Major    Rathbone,    Miss    Harris.      See    Appendices 
XXIV,  XVIII,  XX. 

2  Oldroyd,   pp.   35-37- 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  113 

and  Dana,  above  the  sobbing  of  Mrs.  Lincoln,  sounded  the 
incessant  moaning,  the  stertorous  breathing  of  the  Pres 
ident.  He  was  entirely  unconscious,  not  the  faintest 
glimmer  of  understanding  had  come  to  him  since  the  bullet 
ploughed  its  way  through  his  brain.  He  never  knew  what 
sped  him  hence.  He  was  here,  smiling  at  long-delayed 
peace,  and  then  he  was  There,  smiling  in  peace  never- 
ending.  In  the  interval  his  long,  gaunt  body  —  aged  by 
the  four  years  of  war  more  than  most  men  age  in  a  score 
of  years1  —  lay  diagonally  across  the  low-posted  walnut 
bed  in  Willie  Clark's  little  9  x  17  foot  room.  There  was 
striped  wall  paper  on  the  walls,  and  a  few  pictures:  a 
cheap  copy  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  "Horse  Fair,"  a  copy  of 
Herring's  "The  Village  Blacksmith,"  and  copies  of  "The 
Stable"  and  "The  Barnyard"  by  the  same  artist,  also  a 
photograph  of  Ida,  Clara,  and  Nannie  Clark  —  Willie's 
sisters.  On  the  table  were  cushions  worked  for  Willie 
by  his  sisters  Ida  and  Clara. 

At  a  quarter  before  two  Mrs.  Lincoln  went  into  the  little 
room.  The  President  was  quiet  then  —  the  moaning, 
the  struggling  motion  of  the  long  arms,  were  over.  She 


1  No  words  could  tell  the  story  of  those  years  as  do  the  life  and  death  masks  of  Lincoln, 
the  one  made  in  Chicago,  by  Volk,  shortly  after  Mr.  Lincoln's  election,  and  the  other 
in  the  White  House,  soon  after  his  death.  The  present  writer,  holding  a  copy  of  one  in 
each  hand,  in  the  magnificent  Lincoln  library  of  Major  W.  H.  Lambert,  of  Philadelphia, 
felt  as  never  before  what  the  war  must  have  meant  to  the  man  whose  face  it  so  awe- 
somely  altered. 


114  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

stayed  until  ten  minutes  after  two,  when  she  returned  to  her 
sofa  in  the  parlour.  At  three  o'clock  she  went  in  again 
for  a  few  moments.  At  3.35  Dr.  Gurley  knelt  by  the  bed 
side  and  prayed.  At  six  o'clock  the  pulse  began  to  fail. 
At  6.30  the  laboured  breathing  was  heard  again.  At  7 
the  physicians  announced  signs  of  immediate  dissolution, 
and  at  7.22  the  faint  pulse  ceased,1  the  last  breath  fluttered 
from  between  the  parted  lips,  and  Stanton's  voice  broke 
the  unbearable  stillness  saying:  "Now  he  belongs  to  the 
ages."* 

Dr.  Gurley  knelt  again  and  prayed,  after  which  he  went 
into  the  front  parlour  and  prayed  with  Mrs.  Lincoln, 
presently  assisting  her  to  enter  the  death-chamber  and, 
leaning  upon  her  son,  look  on  the  still  face  of  the  dead 
Chief. 

Three  squares  away,  in  a  small  bedroom  in  the 
Kirkwood  House,  sleeping  in  a  drunken  stupor,  lay  the 
unshaven,  unkempt,  unheeding  man  into  whose  hands  the 
deed  of  mad  John  Booth  had  given  the  reins  of 
government.8 

At  nine  o'clock  the  body  of  the  President  was  placed  in 
a  temporary  coffin,  wrapped  in  an  American  flag,  and 


1  Minutes  of  Dr.  Ezra  W.  Abbott,  attending  physician. 

2  "Life  of  Lincoln,"  by  Ida  M.  Tarbell,  vol.  iv.,  p.  40;  Nicolay  and  Hay,  "Life  of 
Lincoln,"  vol.  x,  pp.  285,  et  seq.     O.  R.  Series  I,  vol.  xlvi.,  part  Hi.,  pp.  780,  784. 

3  Stewart,    p.    94. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  115 

borne  by  six  soldiers  to  a  hearse.  Then,  very  quietly,  with 
only  a  tiny  escort,  moving  through  to  G  Street,  the  return 
to  the  White  House  was  made.  A  spring  rain  had  been 
falling  since  early  morning,  and  the  gay  buntings  that 
were  so  soon  to  be  replaced  with  the  trappings  of  woe 
wore  a  bedraggled  look  as  the  hero  of  peace  went  past. 


PART    III 

THE    PENALTY 


III. 

THE  PENALTY 

Booth  left  the  alley  behind  Ford's  Theatre 
and  dashed  into  F  Street,  he  probably  rode  down 
F  to  Seventh,  along  Seventh  to  the  Avenue,  down  the  Ave 
nue  (afterward  it  was  said  the  horse  had  been  heard  gallop 
ing  past  the  National  Hotel)  to  the  Peace  Monument,  and 
around  the  south  side  of  the  Capitol,  then  south  and  east 
to  the  Navy  Yard  bridge  over  the  eastern  branch  of  the 
Potomac. 

At  the  bridge  he  was  halted  by  Sergeant  Silas  T.  Cobb, 
who  detained  him  for  three  or  four  minutes  while  he  asked 
his  name,  residence,  and  destination.  Booth  gave  answers 
that  satisfied  the  sergeant,  even  when  asked  why  he  tried 
to  get  out  of  town  when  he  must  know  that  no  one  was 
allowed  to  pass  after  nine  o'clock;  to  this  Booth  said  that 
as  it  was  a  dark  night  he  had  thought  to  wait  a  little  later 
than  the  usual  time  and  have  the  light  of  the  moon  to  ride 
home  by.  The  moon  was  just  rising  as  they  parleyed,  and 
the  sergeant  told  Mr.  Booth  —  who  gave  his  right  name 
—  to  pass. 

119 


120  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

In  ten  minutes  or  thereabouts  another  man  rode  up  and 
was  challenged.  He  said  his  name  was  Smith,  that  he  lived 
at  White  Plains,  and  that  the  reason  he  was  late  was,  he 
had  been  in  bad  company.  This  was  Davy  Herold,  and 
he  was  close  under  the  shadow  of  his  own  home  where  his 
mother  and  sisters  were  sleeping.1 

Soon  a  third  horseman  rode  furiously  up  and  inquired  if 
a  man  riding  a  roan  horse  had  gone  that  way.  This  was 
Fletcher,  the  liveryman,  who  had  chased  Davy  Herold  thus 
far  from  the  corner  of  Fourteenth  and  the  Avenue,  to  de 
mand  the  immediate  return  of  his  horse  which  Davy  was 
riding.  The  sergeant  told  this  man  he  might  pass  if  he 
insisted,  but  that  he  could  not  return  until  morning;  so 
Fletcher  turned  reluctantly  back,  and  at  the  corner  of  E 
and  Fourteenth  Streets,  where  he  stopped  to  speak  to  the 
foreman  of  another  stable,  he  was  told  that  "President 
Lincoln  is  shot  and  Secretary  Seward  is  almost  dead," 
and  advised  that  he  would  "better  keep  in."  It  was  then 
after  one  o'clock,  he  said.  If  it  was,  he  must  have 
loitered,  for  he  had  ridden  only  about  six  miles.2 

After  leaving  the  bridge  in  Anacostia,  Maryland  (the 
south  end  of  the  Navy  Yard  bridge),  Booth  turned  to  the 
left  and  rode  up  a  hill  called  Good  Hope  Hill,  half  way  up 
the  ascent  of  which  he  stopped  Polk  Gardiner,  a  farmer 

i  C.  T.  p.  84,  Silas  T.  Cobb. 
2C.  T.  p.  83,  John  Fletcher. 


Collection  of  Americana,  F.  II.  Meserve 


THE  HOUSE  ox  TENTH  STREET,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  IN  WHICH 
LINCOLN  DIED 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  121 

lad  hastening  to  the  bedside  of  his  dying  father,  and  asked 
if  a  horseman  had  passed.  Half  a  mile  nearer  to  the 
bridge  Gardiner  passed  Davy.  There  were  several  team 
sters  in  the  road  just  then,  and  Davy  directed  a  general 
inquiry  at  them  as  to  whether  a  horseman  had  passed.  He 
probably  overtook  Booth  in  ten  minutes  or  thereabouts.1 

Booth,  it  must  be  remembered,  had  broken  the  fibula 
or  small  bone  of  his  left  leg,  in  his  fall  to  the  stage  and  was 
suffering  the  most  excruciating  torture  as  he  rode,  the 
splintered  bone  tearing  into  the  flesh  at  every  move. 

Polk  Gardiner  told  Booth  the  road  to  Marlboro  was  the 
straight  road  ahead,  but  at  the  top  of  Good  Hope  Hill 
Booth  and  Herold  turned  to  the  right  into  the  road  to 
Surrattsville,  thirteen  miles  southeast  of  Washington. 
Here  they  roused  the  tavern-keeper  —  Mrs.  Surratt's 
tenant  —  from  a  drunken  stupor  and  Herold  went  into  the 
bar-room  where  he  called  for  the  carbines  he  and  John 
Surratt  and  Atzerodt  had  left  there  five  or  six  weeks  before 
in  their  preparations  for  the  President's  abduction  on 
March  16th.  Herold  got  a  bottle  of  whisky  and  took  it  out 
to  Booth  as  he  sat  on  his  horse  in  the  yard;  the  second 
carbine,  however,  Booth  refused  to  take,  saying  he  could 
not  carry  it.  Herold  got,  too,  the  field-glasses  belonging 
to  Booth,  which  were  the  contents  of  the  small  package 

T.   p.    85,    Polk    Gardiner. 


122  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Mrs.  Surratt  had  left  there  that  afternoon.  Herold  paid 
Lloyd  for  the  whisky  and  as  they  were  leaving  (they  stayed 
only  about  five  minutes)  the  man  who  had  not  come  in 
said  —  or,  so,  at  least,  Lloyd  swore,  although  he 
admitted  he  was  "right  smart  in  liquor  that  afternoon,  and 
after  night  I  got  more  so"  —  "I  will  tell  you  some  news  if 
you  want  to  hear  it:  I  am  pretty  certain  that  we  have 
assassinated  the  President  and  Secretary  Seward."1 

When  soldiers,  on  Saturday  and  Sunday,  asked  Lloyd 
if  two  men  had  stopped  there  or  passed  that  way  Friday 
night,  he  said  he  had  not  seen  them;  but  the  following 
Saturday,  when  the  Secretary  of  War's  bulletin  was  out 
announcing  $100,000  reward  for  the  apprehension  of 
Booth,  Herold,  and  John  Surratt,  Mr.  Lloyd  began  to  have 
a  squeamish  conscience  and  hastened  to  put  the  Govern 
ment  in  possession  of  his  valuable  knowledge. 

Booth  and  Herold  rode  away  from  Surrattsville  in  the 
bright  moonlight,  and  instead  of  turning  to  the  west  at  the 
cross-roads  and  taking  the  much-nearer  road  to  Port 
Tobacco,  where  they  hoped  to  cross  the  Potomac  on  Atze- 
rodt's  boat  and  get  into  Virginia,  they  were  obliged  to  turn 
eastward  to  Upper  Marlboro,  for  Booth  had  determined 
to  go  to  Dr.  Mudd's  house  to  get  his  broken  bone  set. 

Five  miles  from  Surrattsville  they  galloped  through  the 


»C.  T.  p.  85,  John  M.  Lloyd. 


VIIE  ALLEY  BEHIND  FORD'S  THEATRE,  WASHINGTON,  1).  C. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  123 

» 

little  village  of  T.  B.  out  of  which  six  roads  branch  in  as 
many  directions.  If  they  roused  any  one  here,  at  one 
o'clock,  to  inquire  their  way,  we  do  not  know  it.  The 
next  we  know  of  them  is  at  four  o'clock  Saturday  morning, 
when  Davy  Herold  stood  knocking  at  Dr.  Samuel  Mudd's 
front  door.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Mudd  were  sleeping  in  a  back 
room  downstairs,  and  Dr.  Mudd,  who  was  not  feeling 
well,  asked  Mrs.  Mudd  if  she  would  mind  seeing  who  it 
was  —  a  knock  at  a  country  doctor's  door  at  that  hour 
being,  doubtless,  much  less  alarming  than  a  knock  at  an 
ordinary  residence  door  would  have  been.  Mrs.  Mudd 
replied:  "I  would  rather  you  would  go  and  see  for  your 
self."  So  the  doctor  got  up  and  went  to  the  door  in  his 
night  clothes.  In  the  yard  were  two  men  and  two  horses ; 
one  man  was  mounted  and  the  other,  who  had  knocked, 
was  holding  both  horses  by  the  bridles.  The  dismounted 
man  said  the  other  had  broken  his  leg  and  desired  medical 
attendance,  to  which  the  doctor  readily  acceded  and 
returned  to  his  room  to  put  on  some  clothing  and  ask  Mrs. 
Mudd  to  tear  bandages  for  him.  While  she  was  doing  this, 
the  doctor  and  the  uninjured  man  got  the  injured  man  off 
his  horse  and  carried  him  into  the  parlour,  where  the  doctor 
cut  the  long  riding-boot  off  the  swollen  foot  —  or,  rather 
cut  a  slit  about  twelve  inches  long  from  the  instep  upward, 
so  the  boot  would  come  off  over  the  swollen  ankle  —  and 


124  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

found  that  the  fracture  was  about  two  inches  above  the 
instep.  After  dressing  the  injured  leg,  Dr.  Mudd  granted 
the  man's  request  for  a  little  rest,  and  helped  his  compan 
ion  to  carry  him  upstairs  and  put  him  to  bed.  Then  the 
horses  were  put  up,  and  Dr.  Mudd  went  back  to  bed  and 
to  sleep. 

At  7.30,  breakfast  being  ready,  the  doctor  sent  a  servant 
upstairs  to  tell  the  uninjured  young  man,  who  said  his 
name  was  Tyson,  that  he  was  asked  to  join  the  family  at 
table.  Mrs.  Mudd,  meanwhile,  was  busying  herself  in  the 
kitchen  with  a  tray  for  the  sick  man  which  she  sent  up  to 
him  by  a  servant. 

At  breakfast  "Tyson"  asked  the  doctor  some  questions 
about  people  in  lower  Maryland,  and  betrayed  so  much 
acquaintance  with  the  region  that  Mrs.  Mudd  asked  him 
if  he  were  a  native  of  it.  He  replied:  "No,  ma'am,  but 
I  have  been  frolicking  around  for  five  or  six  months." 
Whereupon  Mrs.  Mudd  reminded  him  that  "all  play  and 
no  work  makes  Jack  a  bad  boy.  Your  father  ought  to 
make  you  go  to  work."  "My  father  is  dead,"  he 
answered,  "  and  I  am  ahead  of  the  old  lady."  He  seemed, 
Mrs.  Mudd  said,  "not  to  have  a  care  in  the  world."  He 
told  the  doctor  he  and  his  companion,  whom  he  called 
Tyler,  were  on  their  way  to  the  river,  and  asked  which  was 
the  nearest  road.  The  doctor  took  him  out  into  the  yard 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  125 

and  pointed  the  road  out  to  him.  Then  "Tyson"  went 
upstairs  and  probably  slept,  for  nothing  further  was  heard 
of  the  strangers  till  dinner-time.  "Tyson "  ate  dinner  with 
the  family  and  seemed  to  relish  it  keenly,  but  the  man 
upstairs  sent  back  untouched  all  the  food  that  went  to  him 
for  breakfast  and  for  dinner.  At  dinner  "Tyson"  asked 
the  doctor  if  he  could  get  a  carriage  in  the  neighbourhood 
to  carry  his  friend  away,  and  the  doctor  replied  that  he 
was  going  to  Bryan  town  after  dinner  to  get  the,  mail  and 
see  some  patients,  and  if  "Tyson "  cared  to  go  with  him  he 
would  see  what  could  be  done  about  a  carriage.  After 
they  left,  Mrs.  Mudd,  having  asked  if  she  might  go  up  to 
see  the  sick  man  and  received  cordial  permission,  took  to 
his  room  a  tray  with  some  cake,  a  couple  of  oranges,  and 
a  glass  of  wine,  and  asked  the  man,  whose  face  was  turned 
to  the  wall,  if  there  was  anything  she  could  do  for  him. 
He  asked  for  brandy,  but  there  was  none  in  the  house,  and 
as  he  showed  no  disposition  to  talk,  Mrs.  Mudd  went  down 
stairs  and  busied  herself  in  the  preparations  for  Easter 
then  going  on  in  her  kitchen. 

In  a  little  while  "Tyson"  came  back  and  rapped  on  the 
kitchen  window.  He  said  he  and  the  doctor  had  gone  to 
the  home  of  the  doctor's  father  and  asked  the  loan  of  the 
family  carriage ;  but  the  morrow  being  Easter  the  carriage 
was  needed  to  take  the  ladies  to  church.  So  "Tyson" 


126  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

concluded  to  try  the  horses  and,  leaving  Dr.  Mudd  on  the 
road  to  Bryantown,  returned.  He  went  upstairs,  and 
Mrs.  Mudd  heard  him  and  his  companion  moving  around 
the  room.  In  a  short  time  they  came  downstairs,  the 
injured  man  hobbling  on  a  stick  which  "Tyson"  had 
obtained  of  the  Mudds'  gardener.  Mrs.  Mudd  was 
standing  in  the  hall  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  when  they  came 
down,  and  she  noticed  that  the  heavy  whiskers  "Tyler" 
wore  were  false,  for  they  became  partially  detached  as  he 
hobbled  painfully  down  the  stairs.  Above  the  heavy 
whiskers  the  black  eyes  bespoke  such  agony  that  Mrs. 
Mudd  begged  "Tyson"  not  to  take  his  suffering  friend 
away.  "If  he  suffers  much  we  won't  go  far,"  said 
"  Tyson."  "  I  will  take  him  to  my  lady-love's,  not  far  from 
here."  He  helped  the  crippled  man  into  the  saddle, 
mounted  his  own  horse,  and  they  rode  away. 

An  hour  later  Dr.  Mudd  returned  from  Bryantown  and 
told  his  wife  he  had  heard  there  of  the  assassination  of  the 
President,  and  that  there  were  soldiers  in  Bryantown  and 
all  about  looking  for  the  assassin,  who  was  believed  to 
have  crossed  the  Navy  Yard  bridge  into  Maryland.  As 
he  talked  he  said:  "Those  men  who  were  here  were 
suspicious  characters.  I  will  go  to  Bryantown  and 
tell  the  officers."  But  Mrs.  Mudd,  although  she  agreed 
with  him  about  the  men  and  told  him  of  the  false  whiskers, 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  127 

begged  him  not  to  go  and  leave  her  alone  —  to  send  word 
to  the  soldiers  from  church  to-morrow.  This  he  did, 
telling  his  distant  cousin,  Dr.  George  A.  Mudd,  under 
whom  he  had  studied  medicine,  about  the  circumstances 
of  the  two  men's  stay  at  his  house;  and  Dr.  George  Mudd 
told  Lieutenant  Dana  on  Monday  morning  —  a  degree  of 
unhaste  which  is  the  worst  thing  wherewith  Dr.  Samuel 
Mudd  is  chargeable.1 

At  that  time  it  was  said  the  assassin  of  the  President 
"was  supposed  to  be  a  man  named  Booth,"  but  he  was 
believed  by  many  not  to  have  got  out  of  Washington.  The 
assailant  of  Secretary  Seward  was  reported  to  be  a  noted 
desperado  and  guerrilla  named  Boyle.  Dr.  Samuel  Mudd 
was  quoted  as  having  said,  on  hearing  Booth  mentioned  in 
connection  with  the  murder,  that  he  believed  he  could 
recognize  the  injured  man  who  had  been  at  his  house  as 
John  Booth,  whom  he  had  last  seen  in  Washington  on  the 
twenty-third  of  December.2 

On  Saturday,  the  15th,  after  leaving  Dr.  Mudd's,  Booth 
and  Herold  were  able  to  proceed  but  slowly,  owing  to 
Booth's  extreme  weakness  and  suffering.  They  lost  their 


1  "  Life  of  Dr.  Mudd,"  pp.  30-32,  46.   Lieutenant  David  Dana  reached  Piscataway  at 
seven  Saturday  morning,  and  shortly  afterward  telegraphed  the  War  Office  that  he  had 
"reliable  information  that  the  person  who  murdered  (?)  Secretary  Seward  is  Boyce  or 
Boyd,  the  man  who  killed  Captain  Watkins  in  Maryland."    O.  R.  Series  I,  vol.  xlvi. 
part  iii,  p.  767. 

2  "  Life  of  Mudd,"  pp.  46-47. 


128  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

way  once,  and  Herold  went  to  a  negro  cabin  and  got  its 
occupant,  Oswald  Swann,  to  go  with  them  as  guide  to  the 
house  of  Colonel  Cox,  which  they  did  not  reach  until  one 
o'clock. 

Colonel  Samuel  Cox  was  a  man  whose  Confederate 
sympathies  were  at  least  sufficiently  ardent  and  dependable 
for  him  to  have  been  apprised  of  the  plot  to  abduct  Presi 
dent  Lincoln.  Dr.  Mudd  seems  also  to  have  known  of 
that  plot,  and  he  may  have  told  Colonel  Cox.  Also,  if 
the  abduction  scheme  were  ever  talked  over  between 
Booth  and  Dr.  Mudd,  the  doctor  may  have  told  Booth  that 
Colonel  Cox  was  one  of  the  men  on  the  way  to  the  Potomac 
who  could  be  relied  on  for  assistance.  Or  Herold  may 
have  heard  something  to  that  effect  in  his  "  sky  larking" 
about  that  country. 

At  any  rate  Colonel  Cox,  who  had  heard  when  the  mail 
came,  toward  evening  on  Saturday,  of  the  President's 
assassination,  and  who  was  deeply  horrified  thereby,  was 
roused  from  his  sleep  about  one  o'clock  Sunday  morning 
by  loud  rapping  with  the  old  brass  knocker  on  his  front 
door.  On  the  porch,  or  gallery,  stood  a  young  man  who 
asked  hospitality  for  himself  and  his  wounded  companion. 
The  youth  refused  to  give  their  names,  and  Colonel  Cox 
told  him  he  could  not  take  in  strangers  of  whom  he  knew 
nothing,  because  the  assassin  of  the  President  was  at  large 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  129 

and  the  country  thereabouts  was  beginning  to  be  searched 
by  soldiers. 

So  Davy  went  back  and  reported  this  to  John,  who  was 
waiting  in  the  yard,  and  Colonel  Cox's  usually  hospitable 
door  was  shut  and  bolted,  and  the  Colonel  went  back  to 
bed.  Out  in  the  moonlit  yard  the  two  fugitives  consulted 
desperately.  Then  they  paid  Oswald  Swann  ten  dollars 
and  dismissed  him;  and  when  he  was  gone,  back  toward 
Bryantown,  they  found  their  way  to  a  gully  about  half  a 
mile  from  Colonel  Cox's  house,  and  there  lay,  trembling 
with  apprehension. 

Sunday  morning  —  Easter  Sunday  morning  —  as 
Colonel  Cox  was  riding  about  his  farm,  he  came  upon  them. 
They  must  have  recognized  him  from  afar,  for  they  did 
not  shoot.  When  he  saw  the  helplessness  and  the  acute 
suffering  of  Booth  his  heart  was  touched,  and  it  was  when 
he  saw  that,  probably,  that  Booth  disclosed  their  identity 
and  threw  himself  and  his  companion  on  the  colonel's 
mercy.  Cox's  reprehension  of  Booth's  awful  deed  was 
the  first  shock  the  mad,  misguided  young  murderer  had, 
his  first  bitter  taste  of  the  world's  malediction  instead 
of  that  grateful  praise  he  had  so  confidently  expected. 
Colonel  Cox  agreed,  nevertheless,  to  give  them  the  protec 
tion  he  had  promised  before  their  revelation,  and  con 
ducted  them  to  a  pine  thicket  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from 


130  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

his  home.  Returning  to  the  house,  he  sent  a  white  farm 
hand  to  Huckleberry  Farm  to  fetch  Thomas  A.  Jones,  his 
foster-brother.1 

Jones  said  afterward  that  he  suspected  something 
wrong, as  he  had  heard  the  evening  before  of  the  President's 
assassination;  but  he  was  hardly  prepared  to  be  told  that 
the  assassin  was  there  and  that  he  was  to  take  care  of  him. 
Colonel  Cox  directed  him  to  the  thicket  and  told  him  to 
give  a  certain  whistle  as  a  signal,  so  he  might  reach  the 
men  without  being  shot. 

Herold  came  out  of  the  dense  pines  on  hearing  the 
whistle,  and  when  he  had  received  Jones's  explanations 
conducted  him  to  where  Booth  lay  on  the  ground  wrapped 
in  blankets,  his  face  drawn  with  great  pain.  Booth  asked 
Jones  a  great  many  questions  as  to  what  people  thought 
of  the  assassination,  and  appeared,  Jones  thought,  to  be 
proud  of  what  he  had  done.  "I  at  the  time,"  Jones 
afterward  admitted,  "  thought  he  had  done  a  great  act; 
but,  great  God!  I  soon  saw  that  it  was  the  worst  blow 
ever  struck  for  the  South." 

Jones  carried  food  to  the  fugitives  and  took  them  the 
papers.2  He  told  them  he  would  let  them  know  the  minute 

1  For  details  of  Booth's  flight  after  leaving  Dr.  Mudd's,  up  to  the  time  he  crossed  the 
Rappahannock,  the  writer  is  indebted  chiefly  to  the  painstaking  research  of  Mr.  Osborn 
H.  Oldroyd  who,  in  1901,  walked  over  the  entire  ground  traversed  by  Booth  and  Herold, 
and  talked  with  many  surviving  persons  who  had  assisted  them  in  their  flight. 

3  See  Appendix  XXV:  Note  on  Southern  horror  of  Booth's  deed. 


LINCOLN'S  FUNERAL  CAR 


Collection  of  Americana,  F.  H.  Meserve. 

PRESIDENT  LINCOLN'S  HEARSE 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  131 

it  was  safe  for  them  to  emerge  from  their  thicket  and 
attempt  to  cross  the  Potomac.  And  there,  on  the  property, 
not  of  Colonel  Cox,  but  of  Captain  Michael  Stone  Robert 
son,  Booth  and  Herold  lay  until  the  night  of  Friday, 
April  21st,  just  a  week  after  Booth's  crime.1 

It  was  while  he  lay  there  and  knew  the  surrounding 
country  to  be  full  of  soldiers  searching  for  him  —  while 
he  could  hear  the  neighing  of  the  cavalry  horses  ridden 
in  hot  pursuit  of  him,  and  had  to  order  his  own  horse 
and  Herold 's  sent  away  and  shot  by  Cox's  overseer, 
Franklin  A.  Roby,  lest  their  answering  neigh  betray 
the  hiding-place  —  that  he  made  two  entries  in  his  litttle 
red-leather-bound  diary  which  he  carried  in  an  inner 
pocket  and  in  the  back  of  which  he  had  the  photographs 
of  half  a  dozen  pretty  girls.  He  dated  the  first  entry 
"April  13,  14,  Friday  the  Ides/'  writing  that  date  around 
the  words  "Te  amo,"  evidently  of  long  previous  inscrip 
tion  at  some  happier  time  when  he  was  practising  love 
messages  in  Latin. 

"Until  to-day,"  that  first  entry  says,  "nothing  was 
ever  thought  of  sacrificing  to  our  country's  wrongs.  For 
six  months  we  had  worked  to  capture.  But  our  cause 
being  almost  lost,  something  decisive  and  great  must  be 
done.  But  its  failure  was  owing  to  others,  who  did  not 
strike  for  their  country  with  a  heart.  I  struck  boldly, 

1  Buckingham,    pp.    64-65. 


132  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

and  not  as  the  papers  say.  I  walked  with  a  firm  step 
through  a  thousand  of  his  friends,  was  stopped,  but 
pushed  on.  A  colonel  was  at  his  side.  I  shouted  Sic 
semper  before  I  fired.  In  jumping  broke  my  leg.  I 
passed  all  his  pickets.  Rode  sixty  miles  [sic]  that  night, 
with  the  bone  of  my  leg  tearing  the  flesh  at  every  jump. 

"  I  can  never  repent  it,  though  we  hated  to  kill. 
Our  country  owed  all  her  troubles  to  him,  and  God 
simply  made  me  the  instrument  of  his  punishment. 

"The  country  is  not  what  it  was.  This  forced  Union 
is  not  what  I  have  loved.  I  care  not  what  becomes  of 
me.  I  have  no  desire  to  outlive  my  country.  This 
night  (before  the  deed)  I  wrote  a  long  article  and  left  it 
for  one  of  the  editors  of  the  National  Intelligencer  in 
which  I  fully  set  forth  our  reasons  for  our  proceeding. 
He  or  the  gov'n  -  -}>1 

Here,  either  from  weakness,  or  perhaps  with  a  sudden 
alarm,  the  diary  abruptly  breaks.  And  there  is  but  one 
more  entry,  dated  "Friday  21." 

On  the  night  of  the  assassination,  shortly  before  ten 
o'clock,  William  Williams,  a  captain  of  police  cavalry  in 
Washington,  passed  Ford's  Theatre,  and  seeing  John 
Booth  on  the  street  in  front  of  the  theatre  asked  him  to 
take  a  drink.  John  declined,  pleading  some  good- 
natured  excuse,  and  Captain  Williams  went  on  toward 
the  Avenue  and  entered  Doc  Claggett's  restaurant  at  the 

1  Suppressed  by  the  War  Office  for  two  years,  and  finally  introduced  in  evidence, 
on  the  demand  of  the  defence,  at  the  trial  of  John  Surratt  in  1867.  (S.  T.  vol.  i,  p  310) 
This  copy  was  made  especially  for  this  book,  direct  from  the  original  in  the  office  of  the 
Judge-Advocate-General,  War  Office,  Washington,  D.  C. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  133 

corner  of  Tenth  Street  and  the  Avenue.  He  was  there, 
less  than  half  an  hour  later,  when  some  one  rushed  in 
and  said  the  President  had  been  shot  at  Ford's.  Captain 
Williams  ran  to  the  theatre,  and  there  some  one  in  autho 
rity  told  him  to  bring  his  cavalry  quickly  to  the  scene. 
This  he  did,  and  spent  the  night  guarding  the  Kirkwood 
House  where  Johnson  lay,  Early  on  Saturday  morning, 
Provost-Marshal  O'Beirne  went  to  the  hotel  with  a 
cavalry  squad  under  Lieutenant  Alexander  Lovett,  and 
ordered  Williams  to  join  them  in  the  hunt  for  the  assassin.1 
In  a  few  minutes  the  pursuers  were  clattering  down  the 
Avenue  toward  the  Capitol,  on  their  way  to  the  Navy 
Yard  bridge.  A  little  later,  Major  A.  C.  Richards, 
Superintendent  of  the  Metropolitan  Police,  crossed  the 
bridge  with  his  mounted  squad.  All  day  Saturday, 
indeed,  pursuers  poured  into  Maryland,  until  by  nightfall 
there  were  nearly  two  thousand  of  them  galloping  madly 
around,  doing  doubtless  rather  more  harm  than  good. 

On  Tuesday,  a  detective  party  under  the  command  of 
Major  James  R.  O'Beirne  started  down  the  river  by 
steamer,  arriving  at  Port  Tobacco  that  night.  Here 
there  was  a  great  meeting  of  the  searching  squads.  Major 
Waite,  of  the  8th  Illinois  Cavalry,  was  there  when  the 
detectives  got  there;  he  had  been  as  far  south  as  Leonards- 

1  Buckingham,   pp.   61-63, 


134  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

town  and  had  returned  because  he  could  get  no  trace  of 
the  fugitives  down  that  way.  So  it  was  determined  to 
sweep  the  swamps  around  Port  Tobacco  and  also  to 
send  a  posse  to  the  river,  four  miles  away.  Accordingly, 
fourteen  hundred  cavalrymen  there  collected  were  ordered 
to  dismount  and  search  the  swamps.  These  men  were: 
700  men  of  the  8th  Illinois,  600  men  of  the  22nd  Coloured 
Troops,  and  100  men  of  the  16th  New  York  Cavalry. 
But  no  trace  of  the  assassin  could  be  found,  although 
the  whole  searching  party  doubtless  passed  him  once, 
and  small  detachments  of  it  probably  repassed  him  many 
times. 

On  Wednesday,  at  the  bar  of  Brawner's  Hotel  in  Port 
Tobacco,  Captain  Williams  stood  next  to  a  lean,  inscru 
table  man  who  could,  if  he  would,  Williams  felt,  tell 
something  about  the  man  they  sought.  So  Williams 
announced  that  he  would  give  $300,000  for  information 
leading  to  the  capture  of  Booth  —  keenly  eyeing  the  lean 
man  as  he  said  it.  But  the  lean  man's  face  never  changed 
its  blank  expression;  his  name  was  Thomas  A.  Jones.1 

On  Friday,  Jones,  was  at  Allen's  Fresh,  and  heard  the 
discouraged  officers  of  the  searching  squad  order  their 
men  down  into  St.  Mary's  County,  where  they  then 
began  to  believe  the  assassin  must  be.  Mounting  his 


1  Buckingham,    pp.    63,    64. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  135 

horse,  Jones  made  good  time  to  the  pine  thicket,  where 
he  announced  that  the  crossing  of  the  river  might  be 
attempted  that  night. 

No  move  could  be  made  until  after  dark,  and  it  was 
doubtless  while  waiting  for  this  cover  of  the  moonless 
night  that  Booth  made  the  second  and  last  entry  in  his 
diary.  From  the  first  sentence  of  this  it  would  seem  that 
on  Thursday  night  Booth  and  Herold  must  have  made 
a  desperate  and  unadvised  attempt  to  get  away.  The 
entry  reads: 

Friday,  21.  —  After  being  hunted  like  a  dog  through 
swamps  and  woods,  and  last  night  being  chased  by  gun 
boats  till  I  was  forced  to  return,  wet,  cold,  and  starving, 
with  every  man's  hand  against  me,  I  am  here  in  despair. 
And  why  ?  For  doing  what  Brutus  was  honoured  for  — 
what  made  William  Tell  a  hero;  and  yet  I,  for  striking 
down  an  even  greater  tyrant  than  they  ever  knew,  am 
looked  upon  as  a  common  cutthroat.  My  act  was  purer 
than  either  of  theirs.  One  hoped  to  be  great  himself; 
the  other  had  not  only  his  country's,  but  his  own,  wrongs 
to  avenge.  I  hoped  for  no  gain;  I  knew  no  private  wrong. 
I  struck  for  my  country,  and  her  alone.  A  people  ground 
beneath  this  tyranny  prayed  for  this  end,  and  yet  now 
see  the  cold  hands  they  extend  to  me!  God  cannot 
pardon  me  if  I  have  done  wrong;  yet  I  cannot  see  any 
wrong,  except  in  serving  a  degenerate  people.  The 
little,  the  very  little,  I  left  behind  to  clear  my  name,  the 
Government  will  not  allow  to  be  printed.  So  ends  all! 
For  my  country  I  have  given  up  all  that  makes  life  sweet 
and  holy  —  to-night  misfortune  upon  my  family,  and 


136  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

am  sure  there  is  no  pardon  for  me  in  the  heavens,  since 
man  condemns  me  so.  I  have  only  heard  of  what  has 
been  done  (except  what  I  did  myself),  and  it  fills  me  with 
horror.  God,  try  and  forgive  me  and  bless  my  mother. 
To-night  I  will  once  more  try  the  river,  with  the  intention 
to  cross;  though  I  have  a  greater  desire  and  almost  a  mind 
to  return  to  Washington,  and  in  a  measure  clear  my  name, 
which  I  feel  I  can  do. 

I  do  not  repent  the  blow  I  struck.  I  may  before  my 
God,  but  not  to  man.  I  think  I  have  done  well,  though 
I  am  abandoned,  with  the  curse  of  Cain  upon  me,  when, 
if  the  world  knew  my  heart,  that  one  blow  would  have 
made  me  great,  though  I  did  desire  no  greatness.  To 
night  I  try  once  more  to  escape  these  bloodhounds.  Who, 
who,  can  read  his  fate  ?  God's  will  be  done.  I  have 
too  great  a  soul  to  die  like  a  criminal.  Oh!  may  He 
spare  me  that,  and  let  me  die  bravely.  I  bless  the  entire 
world.  I  have  never  hated  nor  wronged  any  one.  This 
last  was  not  a  wrong,  unless  God  deems  it  so,  and  it  is 
with  Him  to  damn  or  bless  me.  And  for  this  brave  boy, 
Herold,  here  with  me,  who  often  prays  (yes,  before  and 
since)  with  a  true  and  sincere  heart,  was  it  a  crime  in 
him  ?  If  so,  why  can  he  pray  the  same  ?  I  do  not  wish 
to  shed  a  drop  of  blood,  but  I  must  fight  the  course. 
'T  is  all  that 's  left  me. 

When  the  darkness  permitted,  Jones  went  to  the 
thicket  and  with  Herold's  help  lifted  Booth  to  his 
(Jones's)  horse.  Then,  Herold  leading  the  horse  and 
Jones  walking  a  little  in  advance  to  show  the  way  and 
to  scout,  they  proceeded  to  Huckleberry  Farm,  which 
was  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  Potomac. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  137 

Here  Jones  hid  his  men  in  the  orchard  while  he  went  in 
to  get  them  some  food.  Booth  begged  piteously,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  to  be  taken  into  the  house  for  a  cup  of 
hot  coffee,  but  Jones  knew  the  risk  of  being  seen  by  some 
of  the  negroes  about  the  place  was  too  great,  and  refused. 

From  Huckleberry  Farm  to  the  river  the  road  is  a 
winding  one,  through  woods  much  of  the  way,  and  Jones 
and  Herold  made  but  slow  progress  over  it  with  Booth 
on  Jones's  horse.  At  the  water's  edge  was  a  flat-bot 
tomed  boat  in  which  Henry  Woodland ,  a  faithful  coloured 
man  belonging  to  Jones,  had  been  fishing  for  shad  that 
day.  Jones  had  told  him  where  to  leave  the  boat,  and 
here  he  found  it  when  he  and  the  fugitives  reached  the 
river.  He  and  Herold  lifted  Booth  into  the  stern  of  the 
boat.  Booth  paid  him  all  he  would  take  (SI 7),  Herold 
took  up  the  oars,  and  just  before  he  pushed  them  off 
Jones  lighted  a  candle  for  a  moment  and  showed  Booth 
how  to  steer  to  get  into  Machodoc  Creek.  He  gave  him, 
also,  directions  to  a  Mrs.  Quesenberry's  who,  Jones 
thought,  would  harbour  them.  Booth  thanked  Jones 
profusely  as  he  shoved  their  little  boat  out  into  the  rough, 
rain-swept  river  —  and  in  a  moment  more  he  and  the  boy 
Davy  were  alone  in  the  all-enveloping  blackness.1 

"The  night  was  ink-black,"  said  Jones,  describing  it 

1  Buckingham,  p.   67. 


138  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

long  afterward,  "and  I  could  not  see  either  of  the  men, 
but  had  to  feel  for  them;  and  as  I  was  in  the  act  of  pushing 
the  boat  off  Booth  said,  in  a  voice  choked  with  emotion: 
1  God  bless  you,  my  dear  friend,  for  all  you  have  done 
for  me.  Good-bye,  good-bye!'  I  pushed  the  boat  off, 
and  it  glided  out  in  the  darkness.  I  could  see  nothing, 
and  the  only  sound  was  the  swish  of  the  waves  made  by 
the  little  boat.  Never  in  all  my  life  did  my  heart  go  out 
in  more  pity  and  sympathy  for  my  fellow-man  than  that 
night.  I  stood  on  the  shore  and  listened  till  the  sound 
of  the  oars  died  away  in  the  distance,  then  climbed  the 
hill  and  took  my  way  home,  and  my  sleep  was  more 
quiet,  and  peaceful  than  it  had  been  for  some  time."1 

It  was  more  quiet  and  peaceful  than  it  would  have  been 
could  he  have  known  what  was  happening  to  his  late 
charges.  After  long,  hard  rowing,  they  found  themselves 
twelve  miles  out  of  their  way  and  obliged  to  retrace  their 
course,  which  they  did  not  dare  to  do  then,  lest  daylight 
find  them  abroad.  So  they  hid  themselves  in  this  strange 
place,  not  knowing  what  manner  of  place  it  was,  and 
early  in  the  morning  Davy  ventured  cautiously  out  of 
hiding  and  made  his  way  to  the  house  of  Colonel  J.  J. 
Hughes,  where  he  begged  food  and  learned  how  best  to 
make  their  way  thence  to  Machodoc  Creek. 

1  Oldroyd,   p.    no. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  139 

All  day  Saturday  they  lay  concealed  beside  Avon  Creek, 
and  in  the  darkness  pushed  their  boat  out  again  into  the 
Potomac  and  made  for  the  Virginia  shore.  Machodoc 
Creek,  when  they  reached  it,  had  so  many  small  vessels 
in  it  that  they  would  not  venture  in,  but  tried  Gambo 
Creek,  a  mile  distant.  Here  Herold  tied  their  boat, 
helped  Booth  out,  and  settled  him  under  a  black-walnut 
tree  while  he  sought  Mrs.  Quesenberry's  cottage  to  ask 
for  food  and  directions.  He  returned,  presently,  with 
Thomas  H.  Harbin,  a  brother-in-law  of  Jones,  who  lived 
in  the  neighbourhood.  Harbin  guided  them  farther  up 
Gambo  Creek  and  to  the  cabin  of  a  man  named  Bryan,  who 
gave  them  refuge  from  early  Sunday  morning  until  some 
time  Sunday  afternoon,  when  he  conveyed  them  through 
the  woods  to  the  summer  home  of  a  Dr.  Richard  Stuart, 
from  whom,  on  account  of  his  well-known  ardour  for  the 
Southern  cause,  Booth  hoped  to  receive  a  welcome. 

But  Dr.  Stuart  was  of  no  mind  to  put  himself  in  jeopardy 
with  the  Government  now  that  the  war  was  over,  and  he 
refused  to  harbour  the  fugitives.  He  gave  them  some 
food  (most  of  the  food  received  must  have  been  con 
sumed  by  Davy,  for  whenever  Booth  was  observed  it 
was  noted  that  he  left  everything  untouched)  and 
directed  them  to  the  cabin  of  a  negro  on  his  place,  one 
William  Lucas. 


140  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Booth,  keenly  feeling  this  rebuff,  wrote  a  note  (probably 
in  Lucas's  cabin)  and  sent  it  back  to  the  doctor.  It  read : 

Forgive  me,  but  I  have  some  little  pride.  I  cannot 
blame  you  for  want  of  hospitality;  you  know  your  own 
affairs.  I  was  sick,  tired,  with  a  broken  leg,  and  in  need 
of  medical  assistance.  I  would  not  have  turned  a  dog 
away  from  my  door  in  such  a  plight.  However,  you  were 
kind  enough  to  give  us  something  to  eat,  for  which  I  not 
only  thank  you;  not  for  the  rebuke  and  manner  in  which 
to  [piece  torn  out].  It  is  not  the  substance,  but  the  way 
in  which  kindness  is  extended,  that  makes  one  happy  in 
the  acceptance  thereof.  The  sauce  to  meat  is  ceremony, 
meeting  were  bare  without  it.  Be  kind  enough  to  accept 
the  enclosed  five  dollars,  although  hard  to  spare,  for  what 
we  have  had.1 

Lucas  kept  the  men  Sunday  night,  and  early  on  Monday 
morning  took  them  in  a  waggon  to  Port  Conway  on  the 
Rappahannock,  where  they  arrived  at  9.30.  William 
Rollins,  the  ferryman  plying  between  Port  Conway  and 
Port  Royal  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  was  sitting  at 
the  door  of  his  little  house  mending  his  nets  when  Herold 
asked  for  water  for  himself  and  his  lame  "  brother"  who 
was  across  the  street.  He  asked,  too,  about  getting  across 
the  river,  and  was  told  he  would  have  to  wait  a  little  while 
until  the  tide  rose. 

While  they  were  waiting,  three  Confederate  officers  rode 
up  to  the  ferry.  They  were  Captain  William  M.  Jett, 

1  S.   T.  vol.  i,  p.  402. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  141 

Lieutenant  A.  R.  Bainbridge,  and  Lieutenant  Ruggles, 
and  when  it  became  evident  that  they,  too,  were  going  to 
wait  for  the  ferry,  Herold  got  out  of  Lucas's  waggon  and 
came  toward  them,  inquiring  of  them  to  what  command 
they  belonged.  Ruggles  answered :  "  Mosby's  command." 
Whereupon  Herold  ventured:  "If  I  am  not  inquisitive, 
can  I  ask  you  where  you  are  going  ?  "  Jett  told  him  that 
was  a  secret.  Presently  Booth  got  out  of  the  waggon  and  on 
his  rude,  improvised  crutches  approached  the  officers,  to 
whom  he  said  he  was  a  member  of  the  corps  of  A.  P.  Hill, 
the  gallant  commander  whose  death  in  the  Appomattox 
campaign  had  brought  such  sorrow  to  the  Confederacy. 

Herold  then  spoke  up  and  said  their  name  was  Boyd, 
that  his  "brother"  had  been  wounded  in  the  fighting 
below  Petersburg,  and  that  they  wanted  to  get  "out  of  the 
lines."  He  turned  to  Jett  —  they  were  all  sitting  down, 
now,  in  front  of  Rollins's  house  —  touched  him  on  the 
shoulder  and,  saying  he  wanted  to  speak  to  him,  led  him 
over  to  the  wharf  where  he  further  entreated  Jett  to  take 
his  "brother"  and  him  south.  To  this  pleading  Jett 
answered:  "I  cannot  go  with  any  man  that  I  don't  know 
anything  about."  And  Herold,  after  a  moment's  thought, 
whispered  in  great  agitation:  "We  are  the  assassinators  of 
the  President."  Jett  was  confounded  beyond  the  power 
of  reply.  He  saw  Ruggles  at  the  river  watering  his  horse 


142  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

and  called  him  to  the  wharf.  There  was  a  consultation  in 
which  Booth  presently  joined,  hobbling  down  from  the 
house;  and  the  upshot  of  it  was  that  when  the  tide  rose 
they  crossed  together,  Booth  riding  Ruggles's  horse. 

Arrived  on  the  Port  Royal  side,  Jett  went  to  the  house  of 
a  lady  he  knew  and  asked  her  if  she  would  entertain  two 
Confederate  soldiers  for  two  or  three  days.  At  first  she 
said  she  would,  then  she  refused.  So  the  five  men  went 
along  the  road  toward  Bowling  Green,  and  about  three 
miles  on  the  way  came  to  the  comfortable  farmhouse  of  a 
Mr.  Garrett  who  consented,  on  solicitation,  to  shelter 
a  wounded  Confederate  for  a  day  or  two. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock  Monday  afternoon  when  Jett 
—  although  he  did  not  know  Mr.  Garrett  —  undertook 
the  introduction  to  him  of  "John  William  Boyd,"  and 
asked  Mr.  Garrett  to  care  for  "Boyd"  until  Wednesday 
morning,  at  which  time  his  companions  would  call  for  him. 
Thereupon  the  four  others  rode  off,  Herold  stopping  for 
that  night  with  Ruggles  at  the  house  of  a  Mrs.  Clark  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Bowling  Green.  Jett  had  a  sweet 
heart  in  the  latter  village  and  she  was  the  occasion  of  his 
presence  in  the  vicinity;  her  father  kept  the  hotel,  and 
thither  Jett  made  haste  as  soon  as  he  had  safely  bestowed 
Booth.1 


1  C.  T.  p,  90,  Captain  William  M.  Jett;  Century  Magazine  for  January,    1890,   pp. 
443  etseq  :  "The  Pursuit  and  Death  of  Booth,"  by  Bainbridge,  Jett,  and  Ruggles. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  143 

At  ten  o'clock  Monday  morning,  April  24th,  S.  H. 
Beckwith,  General  Grant's  cipher  operator,  who  had  on 
the  Saturday  previous  (April  22d)  been  ordered  to  the 
lower  Potomac  to  establish  communication  between  the 
various  searching  parties,  wired  as  follows  from  Port 
Tobacco : 

Major  Eckert:  Have  just  met  Major  O'Beirne,  whose 
force  has  arrested  Dr.  Mudd  and  Thompson.  Mudd  set 
Booth's  left  leg  (fractured),  furnished  crutches,  and  helped 
him  and  Herold  off.  They  have  been  tracked  as  far  as 
the  swamp  near  Bryan  town.1 

Meantime,  on  Saturday  night,  hard  on  the  trail  of  the 
fugitives,  O'Beirne  and  his  detectives  had  crossed  the 
Potomac,  and  although  most  of  the  party  were  exhausted 
by  that  time  and  had  to  stay  behind  on  the  Virginia  shore, 
the  major  and  one  man  pushed  on  all  night,  going  as  far 
as  King  George,  where  they  thought  they  found  evidence 
that  the  men  they  sought  were  trying  to  make  Port  Royal. 
On  Sunday  they  returned  to  Chapel  Point,  passing  their 
quarry  on  the  way,  and  O'Beirne  telegraphed  Washington 
for  permission  to  pursue  the  chase  to  Port  Royal.  This 
was  refused,  and  he  was  ordered  home.2 


1  "  Lincoln  in  the  Telegraph  Office,"  p.  373. 

2  Baker,  p.  494,  describes  how  O'Beirne  "asked  permission  to  pursue,  promising  fo 
catch  the  assassins  before  they  reached   Port  Royal.     This  the  department  refused, 
and  O'Beirne  returned  to  Washington,  cheerful  and  contented."     We  are  glad  to  have 
Baker's  assurance  about  the  cheer  and  content,  but  O'Beirne's  would  be  more  convincing. 


144  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

There  was  a  large  reward  for  the  capture  of  Booth  anc 
Herold,  and  every  one  in  the  country,  seemingly,  was  anxi 
ous  to  swear  something  or  do  something  to  get  a  portion  oj 
it.  O'Beirne  was  undoubtedly  entitled  to  a  lion's  share 
But  up  in  Washington  there  was  Baker  —  Lafayette  C.  — 
chief  of  the  Secret  Service.  Baker  was  a  pious  old  frauc 
who  left  a  most  malodorous  reputation  in  Washington, 
where  he  was  tried  for  blackmail  and  technically  acquitted, 
although  he  was  very  generally  believed  to  be  one  of  the 
worst  leeches  in  the  Government  employ.  He  stood  well 
with  Stanton,  however,  and  on  Monday  the  24th,  when 
Beckwith's  cipher  message  was  received  at  the  Wai 
Office,  Stanton  ordered  O'Beirne  home  and  gave  the 
situation  into  Baker's  hands. 

Lieutenant  Edward  P.  Doherty  and  twenty-six  picked 
men  of  the  16th  New  York  Cavalry  were  ordered  to  report 
to  Baker,  which  they  did  about  two  o'clock  Monday  after 
noon.  Baker  put  these  men  in  charge  of  Colonel  Everton 
J.  Conger  and  Lieutenant  Luther  B.  Baker,  both  of  his 
staff  and  the  latter  a  cousin  of  the  Secret  Service  chief. 
And  about  four  o'clock  —  shortly  after  Booth  had  been 
taken  into  the  Garrett  home  —  these  twenty-nine  pursuers 
embarked  on  the  steamer  John  S.  Ide  and  sailed  down  to 
Belle  Plain,  the  nearest  landing  to  Fredericksburg,  arriving 
at  ten  o'clock.  From  Belle  Plain  they  galloped  across 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  145 

country,  riding  all  night  and  all  day  Tuesday.  At  three 
o'clock  Tuesday  afternoon  they  arrived  at  the  Port  Con  way 
ferry,  found  Rollins,  showed  him  photographs  of  Booth 
and  Herold,  and  learned  from  him  that  the  men  wanted 
had  been  ferried  across  the  Rappahannock  by  him  just 
about  twenty-four  hours  before.  Rollins  said  they  had 
started  for  Bowling  Green,  in  company  with  three  Con 
federate  officers.  He  was  arrested  and  taken  as  guide,  the 
river  was  ferried  again,  and  about  sundown  the  posse 
galloped  past  Garrett's,  where  Booth  and  the  family 
were  seated  on  the  porch.1  Herold  was  there,  too.  He 
had  come  to  the  house  during  the  afternoon  with  Jett  and 
Bainbridge,  who  left  him  there  and  rode  off.  Later  they 
came  riding  back  and  gave  Booth  the  alarm,  telling  him 
of  the  presence  of  Federal  troops  at  the  ferry.  When 
Booth  saw  the  troops  go  by,  he  and  Herold  retired  pre 
cipitately  to  a  thicket  behind  the  barn,  not  venturing 
thence  until  summoned  to  supper.  Asked  why  they 
feared  the  Federal  troops  now  that  the  war  was  over, 
Booth  said  they  had  been  "in  a  little  brush  over  in  Mary 
land"  and  thought  best  to  lie  low  for  a  few  days. 

The  Garretts  suspected  their  guest.  He  had  offered  to 
buy  the  horse  of  Jack  Garrett  for  $150,  but  young  Garrett 
refused  because  the  horse  was  one  he  had  ridden  through 

1  C.  T.  pp.  91,  95,  Everton  J.  Conger,  Edward  Doherty. 


146  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

the  late  campaigns  of  Lee's  army  and  was  given  him  by 
the  magnanimous  terms  of  Grant's  peace  compact  at 
Appomattox.  Booth  then  offered  Garrett  ten  dollars  to 
take  him  the  next  morning  to  Guinea  Station,  eighteen 
miles  away.  To  this  Garrett  agreed,  and  Booth  paid  the 
money  then  and  there. 

When  bedtime  came,  Booth  manifested  strong  reluctance 
to  go  upstairs,  and  on  insisting  that  he  would  rather  sleep 
anywhere  else,  even  in  a  barn,  was  conducted  to  a  large 
tobacco-house  in  which  was  stored  a  lot  of  valuable  old 
furniture  belonging  to  wealthy  families  of  Port  Royal  who 
hoped  thus  to  preserve  their  heirlooms  from  destruction  at 
the  hands  of  the  Federal  soldiers. 

Jack  Garrett  believed  this  sleeping  in  the  barn  was  a 
ruse;  that  the  strange  men  would  get  up  in  the  night  and 
steal  their  horses.  So  he  locked  them  into  the  tobacco- 
house  and  gave  the  key  to  a  Miss  Holloway  who  boarded 
with  the  Garretts.  And  he  and  his  brother  went  to  a  shed 
near  the  tobacco-house,  whence  they  could  keep  watch  of 
their  suspicious  visitors.1 

It  was  after  eleven  o'clock  that  night  when  the  soldiers 
Booth  had  seen  passing  Garrett's  before  sundown  reached 
Bowling  Green,  surrounded  the  little  tavern,  and  arrested 
Jett,  who  was  in  bed.  Conger  demanded  to  know  where 

1  Oldroyd,  pp.   298-299. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  147 

the  two  men  Jett  had  crossed  the  ferry  with  were  now,  and 
Jett,  very  much  frightened,  told  Conger  where  they  were 
and  offered  to  go  as  guide  and  show  the  way. 

At  two  in  the  morning  the  squad  of  thirty  surrounded 
Garrett's  farmhouse  and  Lieutenant  Baker  rapped  loudly 
at  the  kitchen  door.  Presently  the  elder  Garrett  came  to 
the  door  in  his  nightclothes,  and  was  roughly  seized  by 
Baker,  who  clutched  the  old  man's  throat  with  one  hand 
and  with  the  other  held  a  pistol  to  his  head.  ^Tien  Mr. 
Garrett  could  speak,  he  said  the  men  were  gone.  But 
just  then  Jack  Garrett  appeared  from  his  shed,  and 
urged  upon  his  father,  whom  Conger  was  threatening  to 
hang,  the  need  of  telling  the  truth  in  the  matter.  A  guard 
was  left  to  watch  the  father,  and  the  rest  of  the  posse,  led  by 
Jack  Garrett,  approached  the  tobacco-house.  The 
soldiers  were  stationed  around  the  building  —  which  was 
only  about  100  feet  from  the  residence  —  at  a  distance 
of  ten  yards,  with  four  of  them  at  the  padlocked  door. 
The  key  was  fetched  from  the  house,  and  while  they  were 
waiting  for  it  a  rustling  noise  could  be  heard  within  the 
tobacco-house. 

Baker  spoke  to  the  men  inside  saying  he  would  send  in 
to  demand  their  surrender  one  of  the  young  Garretts. 
To  this  youth  he  ordered  them  to  deliver  their  arms,  after 
which  they  were  to  come  out  and  give  themselves  up. 


148  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Accordingly,  the  trembling  Garrett  boy  was  sent  within, 
and  soon  returned,  reporting  that  Booth  had  cursed  him 
for  a  betrayer  and  "reached  down  into  the  hay  behind 
him"  as  if  for  a  weapon  —  whereupon  Garrett  waited  not 
on  the  order  of  his  going,  but  went  at  once. 

Then  Baker  called  in  to  them  that  if  they  did  not  come 
out  in  five  minutes  he  would  fire  the  tobacco-house.  To 
which  Booth  replied  in  a  ringing  voice :  "Who  are  you; 
what  do  you  want;  whom  do  you  want?" 

"We  want  you,"  said  Baker,  "and  we  know  who  you 
are;  give  up  your  arms  and  come  out." 

"Let  us  have  a  little  time  to  consider,"  urged  Booth; 
and  this  was  granted. 

Ten  minutes  went  by  in  hushed  stillness,  awaiting  the 
least  sound  from  within  —  fifteen  minutes.  In  the  yard 
the  thirty  pursuers,  including  Captain  William  Jett,  who 
must  have  hated  himself  for  his  betrayal  of  a  wounded 
man;  hovering  anxiously  among  them,  the  Garrett  boys, 
indignant  at  the  brutal  treatment  of  their  father,  worried 
about  the  valuables  in  the  tobacco-house,deeply  concerned 
about  the  shock  to  their  mother  and  the  fright  of  their 
little  sister;  on  the  fringes  of  the  little  crowd,  wide-eyed, 
agitated  blacks,  shivering  with  terror  and  yet  appreciative 
of  the  excitement;  on  the  pillared  gallery  of  the  home-like 
two-storied  white  house  a  little  group  of  horror-stricken 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  149 

women,  including  Mrs.  Garrett  and  Miss  Holloway,  her 
boarder.  And  from  within  the  tobacco-house  not  a  sound. 
At  length,  the  ringing  voice  again: 

"Who  are  you  and  what  do  you  want?" 

And  from  Baker  the  reply:  "We  want  you;  we  want  to 
take  you  prisoners." 

"Captain,"  said  the  clear  voice,  every  tone  of  which 
was  distinguishable  on  the  gallery,  a  hundred  feet  away, 
"I  know  you  to  be  a  brave  man,  and  I  believe  you  to  be 
honourable.  I  am  a  cripple;  I  have  got  but  one  leg.  If 
you  will  withdraw  your  men  in  line  one  hundred  yards  from 
the  door  I  will  come  out  and  fight  you." 

Baker  replied  that  he  had  come  not  to  fight  but  to  cap 
ture  ;  to  which  Booth  said :  "  If  you  will  take  your  men  fifty 
yards  from  the  door,  I  '11  come  out  and  fight  you.  Give 
me  a  chance  for  my  life!" 

Later,  he  offered  to  fight  all  the  men  singly,  and  when 
Baker  again  refused,  the  word  came  back:  "Well,  my 
brave  boys,  prepare  a  stretcher  for  me." 

Then  Conger  directed  the  Garrett  boys  to  pile  brush 
against  the  corners  of  the  tobacco-house,  and  passed  in  and 
out  among  his  men  giving  orders  for  the  capture  when  the 
flames  should  force  Booth  and  Herold  out;  above  all, 
Booth  must  be  taken  alive,  if  possible. 

Some  one  close  to  the  tobacco-house  heard  Booth  say 


150  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

to  his  companion:  "You  damned  coward,  will  you  leave 
me  now  ?  Go!  Go!  I  would  not  have  you  stay  with  me." 

Booth  then  came  to  the  door  and  announced:  "There  's 
a  man  in  here  who  wants  to  come  out." 

"Very  well,"  said  Baker,  "let  him  hand  his  arms  out 
and  come." 

Thereupon  Herold  came  to  the  door  and  said:  "Let 
me  out." 

"Hand  out  your  arms,"  ordered  Baker,  "you  carried 
a  carbine  and  you  must  hand  it  out." 

"The  arms  are  mine,"  called  Booth,  "and  I  have  got 
them.  Upon  the  word  and  honour  of  a  gentleman,  this 
man  has  none.  And  I  declare  before  my  Maker  that  he 
is  innocent  of  any  crime  whatever." 

Herold  was  then  ordered  to  put  out  his  hands,  they  were 
manacled,  and  he  was  quickly  dragged  out,  the  door 
slammed  behind  him,  and  the  easy  prisoner  hurried  to  a 
remote  corner  of  the  yard  with  a  couple  of  cavalrymen  to 
guard  him. 

Immediately  Herold  was  secured,  Conger  went  around 
to  a  corner  of  the  tobacco-house,  pulled  a  wisp  of  hay 
through  a  crack,  set  fire  to  it,  and  stuck  it  back.  The 
hay  was  very  dry  and  blazed  almost  instantly.  Booth 
turned,  when  he  heard  it  crackling,  and  seemed  to  be 
looking  to  see  if  he  could  put  it  out.  Then,  as  if  convinced 


Collection  of  Mr.  Robert  Coster. 

THE  CAPTURE  AND  DEATH  OF  BOOTH 

Booth  and  Herold  were  discovered  hiding  in  the  tobacco-house  of  Mr. 
Garrett,  on  the  road  to  Bowling  Green.  The  building  was  set 
afire  to  compel  Booth  to  surrender,  as  it  was  intended  to  take  him 
alive. 


Collection  of  Mr.  Robert  Coster. 

BOOTH'S  ESCAPE 

Booth  had  a  horse  waiting  for  him,  near  the  theatre,  which  he  mounted 
and  made  his  escape  from  the  scene  of  his  crime.  lie  must  have 
suffered  keenly,  as  he  had  broken  a  bone  in  his  leg  in  his  leap  from 
the  box  to  the  stage. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  151 

that  he  could  not,  he  started  toward  the  door.  At  that 
moment  a  shot  rang  out.  Boston  Corbett,  a  trooper  of 
the  16th  New  York,  had  lost  his  head,  disobeyed  orders, 
and  fired  through  a  crack  with  deadly  aim.1 

"He  has  shot  himself!"  was  the  instant  thought  of 
every  one.  Conger  rushed  into  the  barn  and  found 
Baker  already  there  and  raising  Booth  up.  They  dis 
covered  a  wound  in  the  neck,  close  to  the  back  of  the 
head,  from  which  the  blood  was  pouring  freely. 

Out  on  to  the  grass  beneath  the  locust  trees  they 
dragged  him,  and  there  they  left  him  for  dead  while  they 
went  back  to  see  if  the  fire  could  be  put  out.  It  could  not, 
and  Conger  left  it  and  returned  to  Booth,  whose  eyes 
and  lips  were  moving  as  if  he  wanted  to  speak.  He  was 
carried  to  the  gallery,  Miss  Holloway  fetched  a  pillow 
for  his  head,  and  dipped  a  rag  in  brandy  and  water  to 
moisten  his  lips. 

Presently  he  was  able  to  articulate,  and  Conger  bent 
over  him  to  hear  what  he  might  say.  "Tell  mother  — 
I  die  —  for  my  —  country,"  he  gasped.  "I  did  —  what 
I  thought  —  was  —  best." 

1  C.  T.  pp.  94,  95,  Boston  Corbett.  Corbett  was  a  religious  fanatic.  According  to 
Harper's  Weekly  for  May  13,  1865,  "he  was  a  constant  attendant  of  the  Fulton  Street 
Meeting,  New  York,  and  greatly  annoyed  it  by  what  was  considered  his  fanaticism." 
In  1887  Corbett  was  committed  to  an  asylum  for  the  insane  in  Kansas,  from  which  he 
escaped.  In  1001,  according  to  Oldroyd  (pp.  100,  101),  he  had  for  four  years  been  a 
travelling  salesman  for  a  Topeka  patent  medicine  concern,  and  "covered"  Texas  and 
Oklahoma,  having  his  headquarters  at  Enid,  Okla. 


152  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Conger  repeated  it  after  him  and  asked  him  if  he  had 
got  it  right,  and  Booth  whispered  "Yes."  He  motioned 
to  Conger  to  put  his  hand  on  his  throat,  as  if  to  help  him 
cough,  which  Conger  did,  but  Booth  was  unable  to 
cough.  Conger  told  him  to  open  his  mouth,  and  Booth, 
with  difficulty,  did;  Conger  looked  in  and  said:  "There 
is  no  blood  in  jour  throat." 

Conger  then  searched  the  dying  man's  pockets  and 
took  all  they  contained  —  the  diary,  a  knife,  a  pipe,  a 
little  file,  a  pocket-compass  smeared  with  candle-drip 
pings,  the  bill  of  exchange  bought  in  Montreal  in  October, 
etc.  Booth  whispered  pleadingly,  "Kill  me,  kill  me." 

"We  don't  want  to  kill  you,"  Conger  assured  him, 
"  we  want  you  to  get  well. " 

Conger  then  left,  telling  Baker  if  Booth  was  not  dead 
in  an  hour  "to  send  over  to  Belle  Plain  for  a  surgeon 
from  one  of  the  gunships;  if  he  died,  to  get  the  best 
conveyance  he  could  and  bring  him  on."  Conger  was 
in  mad  haste  to  get  to  Stanton  and  tell  him  that  $75,000 
had  been  earned.  He  reached  Washington  at  5  P.  M., 
and  with  Chief  Baker  went  at  once  to  Stanton  to  tell  him 
the  news.  They  thought  to  excite  the  grim  war  minister 
for  once,  but  they  were  mistaken,  he  took  the  announce 
ment  quite  stolidly.1 

1 C  •   T.    pp.    91-93.    Conger. 


Collection  of  Mr.  Robert  Coster. 


SERGEANT  BOSTON  CORBETT,  16TH  N.  Y.  CAVALRY 
Who  fired  the  shot  that  killed  John  Wilkes  Booth. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  153 

Corbett  fired  about  3.15  A.M.  that  Wednesday,  the 
twenty-sixth  of  April.  Booth  lingered  until  half-past 
five;  conscious  to  the  last  he  must  have  been,  the  doctors 
who  knew  the  nature  of  the  wound  said  afterward,  and 
suffering  the  most  excruciating  agony  a  human  being 
can  know. 

Toward  the  end,  as  the  dawn  was  breaking  into  bril 
liant  day,  he  indicated  by  a  look,  a  feeble  motion,  that 
he  wanted  his  paralyzed  arms  raised  so  he  could  see  his 
hands.  This  was  done,  and  he  said,  very  faintly,  as  he 
looked  at  them:  "Useless  —  useless!"1  Those  were  his 
last  words.  Whether  he  bemoaned  the  uselessness  of 
his  hands  to  fight  for  him,  or  the  uselessness  of  their  mad 
crime,  God  only  knows.  But  he  could  not  more  accu 
rately  have  epitomized  his  insane  deed.  Never  — 
except  Once  —  was  vengeance  so  misdirected.  Never 
was  sacrifice  of  a  brilliant  young  life  so  worse  than  "use 
less." 

Five  minutes  after  Booth  died  a  country  doctor 
arrived  —  in  time  to  pronounce  him  dead.  Very  shortly 
thereafter  the  body  was  sewed  up  in  an  army  blanket, 
strapped  to  a  board,  and  put  in  the  dilapidated  old  cart 
which  a  coloured  man  of  the  neighbourhood  had  used  as  an 
ambulance  after  the  many  bloody  battles  fought  there- 

1  Baker,  p.  604;  "The  Assassin's  Death"  by  George  Alfred  Townsend  (Dick  and 
Fitzgerald,  New  York,  1895),  P-  37- 


154  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

abouts.  This  decrepit  vehicle,  with  its  ghastly  freight, 
was  ferried  across  the  Rappahannock  at  Port  Royal  and 
headed  for  Belle  Plain  where  the  Ide  lay;  Herold,  man 
acled,  rode  behind  his  comrade's  body. 

About  nine  miles  from  Port  Conway  the  old  waggon 
broke,  and  was  abandoned  by  the  roadside;  a  new  con 
veyance  was  procured,  Belle  Plain  was  reached,  and 
the  Ide  got  under  way  for  Alexandria,  where  it  arrived  at 
twenty  minutes  to  eleven  that  night.1 

A  tug  was  there,  by  Stan  ton's  orders,  to  meet  the  Ide; 
on  it  were  Conger  and  his  chief,  and  to  it  were  trans 
ferred  the  body  of  Booth  and  the  person  of  Herold.  At 
a  quarter  to  two  in  the  morning  the  tug  came  alongside 
the  monitor  Montauk,  anchored  off  the  Navy  Yard; 
and  Herold  was  put  in  double  irons  and  placed  in  the 
hold,  while  the  body  of  Booth  was,  on  Baker's  orders, 
kept  on  deck  under  a  guard.  The  body  was  noted  by 
the  Commandant  of  the  Navy  Yard,  when  he  saw  it 
in  the  morning,  to  be  changing  rapidly,  and  he  so  apprised 
Secretary  of  the  Navy  Welles. 

Secretary  Welles  accordingly  issued  an  order  per 
mitting  the  following  persons  to  board  the  Montauk  and 

1  Baker,  pp.  505.  506.  Baker  copied  extensively  from  the  writings  of  Townsend, 
who  as"Gath"  was  the  newspaper  correspondent  most  widely  read  of  any  who  wrote 
of  events  connected  with  the  assassination.  Townsend  was  connected  with  the  New 
York  World,  and  as  he  seems  to  have  taken  stock  in  Baker  (which  few  persons  did) 
Baker's  book  is  copiously  drawn  from  Townsend's  writings.  Oldroyd  also  quotes 
extensively  from  Townsend. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  155 

see  the  body:  Surgeon-General  Barnes  and  his  assistant, 
Judge-Advocate-General  Holt  and  his  assistant,  Hon. 
John  A.  Bingham,  Major  Eckert  and  William  Moore, 
of  the  War  Department,  the  two  Bakers  and  Conger, 
Gardner,  the  official  photographer  and  his  assistant, 
O'Sullivan,  Dr.  May,  a  Washington  physician  who  two 
years  before  had  removed  a  tumour  from  Booth's  neck, 
and  others.1  One  of  Baker's  men  took  on  board  a  girl 
who  had  known  Booth,  and  she  cut  a  lock  of  hair  from 
the  dead  man's  head,  but  Baker,  coming  upon  her,  saw 
her,  and  took  the  hair  away.2 

"Immediately  after  the  Surgeon-General  has  made 
his  autopsy,"  Commandant  Montgomery's  orders  read, 
"you  will  have  the  body  placed  in  a  strong  box  and 
deliver  it  to  Colonel  Baker,  the  box  being  carefully 
sealed."  Thereupon  the  commandant  gave  orders 
to  have  the  box  made,  and  there  was  a  scramble  among 
the  Navy  Yard  workmen  for  the  privilege  of  driving  a 
nail  in  the  coffin  of  the  President's  murderer.8 

It  was  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  General 
Barnes  and  his  assistant  cut  from  Booth's  neck  a  small 
section  —  two  spools  —  of  the  spine,  through  which 


1  James  Croggon  in  the  Washington  Star,  January  5,  1907. 

2  Baker,    pp.    507,    508. 

3  Told  the  present  writer  by  Captain  Beacham.  an  old  employee  of  the  Arsenal;  also 
see  Croggon  in  Star  as  above. 


156  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Corbett's  ball  had  passed1  and  —  the  body  having  been 
fully  identified,  photographed,  and  officially  attested 
dead  —  left  the  ironclad,  together  with  most  of  those 
who  had  attended  the  autopsy. 

At  a  quarter  to  three,  without  waiting  for  leave  or 
licence,  without  stopping  for  the  strong  box  or  the  seal, 
Colonel  Baker  lowered  the  limp  body  into  a  small  row- 
boat  and  took  it  away,  leaving  the  officers  at  the  Navy 
Yard  astonished  at  its  sudden  disappearance. 

The  boat  was  rowed  down  the  Eastern  branch  and  up 
the  main  stream  of  the  Potomac,  which  bounds  the  city 
on  the  south.  At  the  foot  of  Four-and-a-Half  Street,  on 
the  river,  was  the  Arsenal  inclosure,  with  an  old-fashioned 
penitentiary  building,  then  used  as  an  ordnance  store 
house,  midway  of  the  grounds.  The  party  in  the  small 
boat  steered  for  the  Arsenal  wharf  and  there,  about  four 
o'clock,  the  body  of  Booth  was  landed  and  laid  on  the 
wharf  in  charge  of  a  sentry.  It  lay  there  until  after 
nightfall,  during  which  time  Baker  and  Major  Eckert, 
representing  Stanton's  office,  conferred  with  Major  Ben- 
ton,  Commandant  of  the  Arsenal,  about  its  disposition. 

During  the  night  it  was  carried  into  one  of  the  cellar 

1  This  section  of  spinal  column,  and  the  bit  of  spinal  cord,  are  now  in  the  National 
Medical  Museum,  Washington.  They  are  not  marked  with  Booth's  name,  but  were 
shown  to  the  present  writer  by  Dr.  Lamb,  of  the  museum.  Dr.  Lamb  also  answered 
the  question  of  the  skeleton  in  the  Museum  cellar,  sometimes  said  to  be  that  of  Booth; 
it  is  Guiteau's. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  157 

storerooms  of  the  old  penitentiary,  some  bricks  were 
removed  from  the  floor,  a  grave  was  dug,  the  body  was 
put  in  a  gun  box  and  covered  with  a  blanket,  the  earth 
and  then  the  bricks  were  hastily  replaced,  and  the  room 
was  locked,  the  key  being  taken  to  Stanton  by  Major 
Eckert.  That  was  where  John  Booth  lay  while  rumours 
of  his  incineration,  his  burial  at  sea,  his  dismemberment, 
filled  the  air.1 

A  little  after  one  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  April  15th, 
Lieutenant  John  F.  Toffey,  going  to  the  Lincoln  Hos 
pital  where  he  was  on  duty,  saw  a  dark-bay  horse  with 
saddle  and  bridle  on,  standing  at  Lincoln  Branch  Bar 
racks,  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  east  of  the  Capitol 
and  a  mile  west  of  the  Navy  Yard  bridge.  The  sweat 
was  pouring  off  the  horse  and  had  made  a  puddle  on  the 
ground;  a  sentinel  at  the  hospital  had  stopped  him,  and 
when  Lieutenant  Toffey  came  he  took  the  horse  down 
to  the  Old  Capitol  Prison  and  thence  to  General  Augur's 
headquarters  where  the  animal  was  found  to  be  blind  of 
one  eye.1 

1  Baker,  p.  703;  Croggon  in  the  Washington  Star,  April  28,  1865,  also  January  5, 
1907.  Croggon's  veracious  account  of  Booth's  burial  was  almost  lost  sight  of  in  the 
wild  stories  that  filled  the  public  prints.  Frank  Leslie's  Weekly  for  May  20,  1865,  con 
tained  a  full-page  picture  of  the  sinking  of  Booth's  body  in  mid-Potomac  at  night,  accom 
panied  by  the  following  note: 

"The  sketch  below  was  furnished  by  one  of  the  two  officers  employed  in  the  duty 
of  sinking  the  body  of  Booth  in  the  middle  of  the  Potomac  Although  not  authorized 
to  divulge  his  name,  I  am  able  to  vouch  for  the  truth  of  the  representation.  F.  LESLIE." 

2C.  T.  pp.   159-160,  John  F.  Toffey, 


158  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

It  was  the  horse  John  Booth  had  bought  in  November, 
of  George  Gardiner,  Dr.  Mudd's  neighbour.  It  had  carried 
Lewis  Payne  to  Secretary  Seward's  house  on  the  night 
of  the  14th,  a  little  before  ten  o'clock;  had  ridden  off  at 
a  mad  gallop  with  him  up  Vermont  Avenue  and  thence, 
by  some  route  we  cannot  trace,  toward  the  Navy  Yard 
bridge.  Somewhere  or  other  the  horse  threw  its  rider 
and  went  galloping  on  until  stopped  by  the  hospital 
guard. 

Sunday  afternoon,  in  a  piece  of  woods  between  Fort 
Bunker  Hill  and  Fort  Saratoga,  three  miles  from  the 
Eastern  Branch  of  the  Potomac,  Thomas  Price  picked 
up  Payne's  coat.1  Where  the  boy  was  between  midnight 
or  earlier  on  Friday  and  midnight  on  the  Monday  follow 
ing,  we  do  not  know,  but  no  one  seems  to  have  seen  him 
in  that  time.  He  does  not  seem  to  have  made  any 
effort  to  escape,  nor  could  it  be  learned  that  he  had 
applied  to  any  one  for  food.  He  was  probably  lying 
in  the  bushes,  somewhere  within  a  very  few  miles  of  the 
scene  of  his  crime.  And  after  nightfall  on  Monday  he 
got  up  and  wandered  back  into  Washington. 

About  three  o'clock  Saturday  morning,  while  the 
President  lay  dying,  detectives  James  DeWitt,  John 
Clarvoe,  and  others,  pulled  violently  at  the  door-bell  of 


C.  T.  p.  158,  Thomas  Price. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  159 

Mrs.  Surratt's  house,  and  after  a  brief  wait  on  the  steps 
the  door  was  opened  by  Louis  Weichmann,  to  whom  the 
detectives  said  they  had  come  to  search  the  house  for 
John  Wilkes  Booth  and  John  H.  Surratt.1 

Weichmann  said  he  didn't  inquire  why  they  were 
searching  until  they  reached  his  room,  when  they  told 
him  that  Booth  had  murdered  the  President  and  Surratt 
the  Secretary  of  State;  to  which  Weichmann  replied  that 
the  latter,  at  least,  must  be  a  mistake,  for  Surratt  was  in 
Canada,  and  had  been  for  ten  days.  He  then  went 
downstairs  with  the  detectives,  he  said,  and  met  Mrs. 
Surratt  coming  out  of  her  room,  which  was  the  back 
parlour.  Weichmann  told  her  about  Booth,  and  said  she 
exclaimed:  "My  God,  Mr.  Weichmann!  you  don't  tell 
me  so."  She  told  the  detectives  her  son  was  in  Canada, 
whence  she  had  received  a  letter  from  him  only  the  day 
before.  On  Weichmann's  promise  to  report  at  detective 
headquarters  at  eight  o'clock,  the  detectives  left. 

Immediately  after  breakfast  Weichmann  went  to 
police  headquarters  on  Tenth  Street  near  E,  only  a 
stone's  throw  from  Ford's  Theatre.2  He  did  not  again 
return  to  the  Surratt  house,  except  to  get  his  personal 
belongings.  Later  in  the  day  he  went  over  into  Mary 
land  with  the  detectives,  and  was  close  on  the  trail  of  the 

1C.  T.  p.  116,  Weichmann;  p.  140,  Holohan,  James  McDevitt. 
8C.  T.  p.  119,  Weichmann. 


160  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

fugitives  without  knowing  it.  Sunday  he  accompanied 
the  detectives  to  Baltimore,  returning  that  night.  While 
they  were  in  Baltimore,  the  War  Department  issued  an 
order  for  them  to  go  to  Montreal  to  see  if  they  could 
find  Surratt.  It  was  April  29th  when  they  returned, 
Weichmann  going  to  a  boarding-house  close  by  the  War 
Office  which  kept  in  constant  communication  with  him. 
Sunday  morning,  the  thirtieth  of  April,  Weichmann  was 
taken  to  see  Stanton,  who  subjected  him  to  a  cross- 
questioning  lasting  two  hours,  at  the  conclusion  of  which 
Weichmann  was  told  he  would  have  to  be  held  in 
custody.  He  was  turned  over  to  Baker,  who  took  him 
to  Carroll  Prison.  On  May  13th  he  took  the  stand 
at  the  trial  and  swore  away  the  life  of  Mary  E.  Surratt.1 
Weichmann's  testimony  at  police  headquarters  on 
Saturday  morning  must  not  immediately  have  impli 
cated  Mrs.  Surratt,  for  no  attempt  to  arrest  her  was  made 
until  midnight  on  Monday.  If  what  he  said  of  her  was 
true,  he  must  have  managed  to  guard  it  against  the 
"sweating"  of  Major  Richards,  Superintendent  of 
Police;  if  it  was  concocted,  he  evidently  did  not  feel  the 
pressure  which  made  a  false  witness  of  him  until  after 
ward.  If  he  did  not  see  Stanton  until  April  30th,  he  quite 
certainly  saw  on  April  17th  some  one  representing 

1  S.  T.  vol.  i,  pp.  395-399- 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  161 

Stanton's  office,  and  on  that  night  the  War  Department, 
not  the  city  police,  arrested  Mrs.  Surratt. 

It  was  11.20  that  Monday  night  when  Colonel  Olcott, 
special  commissioner  of  the  War  Department,  ordered 
R.  G.  Morgan  of  the  department  to  go  to  Mrs.  Surratt's 
house  and  superintend  the  seizing  of  papers  and  the 
arrest  of  the  household.  He  arrived  there  about  half-past 
eleven,  and  found  Major  W.  H.  Smith,  Lieutenant  John 
W.  Dempsey,  Captain  W.  M.  Wermerskirch,  and  others, 
already  there;  they  had  arrived  about  ten  minutes  before. 

When  Major  Smith  rang  the  bell,  Mrs.  Surratt  came 
to  the  parlour  window  and  asked:  "Is  that  you,  Mr. 
Kirby?"  She  was  told  it  was  not  Mr.  Kirby,  and  or 
dered  to  open  the  door,  which  she  did.  Asked  if  she 
were  the  mother  of  John  H.  Surratt,  Jr.,  she  said  "I 
am."  Whereupon  Major  Smith  said:  "I  come  to  arrest 
you  and  all  in  your  house,  and  take  you  for  examination 
to  General  Augur's  headquarters.1 

Incriminating  circumstance  was  made  of  her  failure 
to  ask  the  reason  for  her  arrest,  but  as  she  knew  her  son 
was  suspected  of  the  attempt  to  murder  Secretary  Seward, 
and  that  her  household  was  under  suspicion  on  account 
of  Booth's  visits  there,  it  hardly  seems  very  damning 
that  the  frightened  woman  asked  no  questions. 

1  C.  T.  pp.  121,  124,  Smith,  Morgan,  Wermerskirch,  Dempsey. 


162  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

It  was  a  household  of  women  solely,  including  Miss 
Anna  Surratt,  Miss  Olivia  Jenkins  —  Mrs.  Surratt's 
sister,  who  had  been  visiting  her  for  some  time  —  and 
Miss  Honora  Fitzpatrick,  a  boarder.  The  Holohan 
family  had  taken  fright  at  the  detectives'  appearance 
Saturday  morning,  and  had  moved  to  other  quarters  on 
Sunday. 

As  soon  as  Morgan  arrived  he  sent  out  for  a  carriage 
to  take  the  four  agitated  women  to  General  Augur's 
headquarters,  and  while  they  were  waiting  for  this  there 
came  a  knock  and  a  ring  at  the  door.  Morgan  and 
Wermerskirch  opened  the  door,  and  Lewis  Payne  stepped 
into  the  hall.  He  was  grimed  and  fouled  from  his  three 
days  and  three  nights  in  hiding  —  unshaven  and  wild- 
eyed,  and  mud  to  his  knees.  He  had  been  hatless  since 
he  left  Seward's  house,  and  over  his  matted  hair  had 
drawn  a  piece  of  gray  knitted  wool  evidently  torn 
from  a  sleeve  of  his  shirt  or  a  leg  of  his  under-drawers. 
On  his  shoulder  he  carried  a  pick. 

When  he  saw  the  officers  Payne  said  quickly:  "I  guess 
I  am  mistaken."  Asked  whom  he  wished  to  see,  he 
said  Mrs.  Surratt,  and  was  told  he  was  in  the  right  place 
and  bidden  to  walk  in.  Morgan  asked  him  what  he 
came  there  at  that  time  of  night  for,  and  he  said  Mrs. 
Surratt  had  sent  for  him  to  dig  a  gutter.  He  was  re- 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  163 

minded  that  this  was  a  strange  hour  to  come  to  work, 
and  he  said  he  had  not  come  to  work,  only  to  inquire 
at  what  hour  he  would  be  wanted  in  the  morning.  Mor 
gan  asked  him  a  number  of  questions  to  which  Payne 
returned  faltering,  evidently  fabricated,  answers.  Major 
Smith  then  called  Mrs.  Surratt  to  the  parlour  door  and 
asked  her  if  she  knew  this  man.  She  peered  short 
sightedly  into  the  dim  hall,  scanning  the  rough-looking 
man,  then  raised  her  hand  and  said:  "Before  God,  I 
never  saw  him  before."  Payne  said  nothing.  Major 
Smith  then  told  Payne  he  was  a  suspicious  character  and 
must  be  placed  under  arrest. 

The  carriage  had  come,  and  Mrs.  Surratt  was  ordered 
to  fetch  the  bonnets  and  shawls  of  the  women;  which  she 
did,  under  guard.  When  she  had  returned  to  the  parlour 
and  they  were  ready  to  go,  she  asked  permission  to  kneel 
down  and  pray.1  This  was  granted,  and  she  knelt  for  a 
minute  or  two.  Then  she  and  the  others  went  quietly 
down  the  steps,  entered  the  carriage,  and  were  driven  to 
General  Augur's  headquarters,  and  from  there,  after  a  long 
cross-questioning,  to  the  square  containing  Carroll  and 
Old  Capitol  Prisons.  Mrs.  Surratt  was  confined  tempo 
rarily  in  the  latter,  and  transferred  thence  to  one  of  the 
monitors ;  the  three  other  women  were  assigned  to  Carroll. 

1C.  T.  pp.  121-124. 


164  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Miss  Anna  begged  piteously  to  be  allowed  to  share  her 
mother's  prison,  but  was  refused. 

When  the  carriage  that  took  them  away  returned  to 
H  Street,  Morgan  put  Payne  into  it,  in  charge  of  Thomas 
Samson  and  Charles  N.  Roach,  and  it  was  again  driven 
to  General  Augur's,  whence  Payne  was  taken,  later  that 
morning,  to  the  monitor  Saugus,  where  he  was  put  in 
double  irons  in  the  hold.1 

Sam  Arnold  was  arrested  at  Fortress  Monroe  on  Mon 
day  morning,  being  the  first  conspirator  captured.  He 
had  been  clerking  in  a  sutler's  store  outside  the  fort  for 
two  weeks,  and  sleeping  in  a  room  back  of  the  store. 
He  had  not  been  away  from  the  store  since  April  1st, 
but  he  was  hurried  to  Washington,  heavily  ironed,  and 
on  Wednesday  was  put  in  the  hold  of  the  Saugus  along 
with  Payne.  Any  remote  likelihood  of  the  prisoners 
communicating  with  each  other  was  reduced  to  impossi 
bility  by  "a  canvas  bag  put  on  the  head  of  each,  and 
tied  around  the  neck,  with  a  hole  for  proper  breathing 
and  eating,  but  not  seeing."2  All  the  prisoners  with  the 
exception  of  Mrs.  Surratt  wore  these  bags  during  their 
confinement  on  the  monitors  and  in  the  penitentiary, 
through  the  hot  days  of  spring  and  summer;  all  wore 
double  irons,  and,  in  addition  to  these,  Payne  was  chained 

1  Report  No.  99,  39th  Congress,  First  Session;  see  Appendix  XXVI:  Note  on  Awards. 

2  Leslie's  Illustrated   Weekly,   May   27,    1865. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  165 

down.  No  one  was  allowed  to  communicate  with  any 
prisoner,  except  on  order  signed  by  both  the  Secretary 
of  War  and  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy. 

O'Laughlin  was  also  arrested  on  Monday,  in  Balti 
more,  though  not  at  his  home.  He  had  gone  to  Wash 
ington  on  Thursday  to  see  the  illumination  and  parades, 
and  returned  to  his  home  (which  was  with  his  brother- 
in-law,  P.  H.  Maulsby,  at  57  North  Exeter  Street)  about 
seven  o'clock  Saturday  evening.  Detectives  had  already 
been  there  looking  for  him,  and  when  O'Laughlin  heard 
this  he  told  Maulsby  that  he  would  not  stay  at  home  to 
be  arrested  as  it  would  kill  his  mother,  but  would  go  to 
the  house  of  a  friend  named  Bailey,  on  High  Street, 
whither  Maulsby  took  the  detectives  on  Monday  morn 
ing.1  On  Wednesday  O'Laughlin  joined  the  hooded, 
manacled  colony  on  the  Saugus;  on  the  seventh  of  July  he 
went  to  the  Dry  Tortugas  for  a  life  term;  and  on  the 
twenty-third  of  September,  1867,  he  died  there  of  yellow 
fever. 

On  what  information  Arnold  and  O'Laughlin  were 
arrested  so  promptly  the  records  do  not  tell  us;  but 
John  Surratt's  explanation  makes  it  clear;  he  said,  in  his 
Rockville  lecture  of  December  8, 1870,  that  the  abduction 
plot  was  known  to  the  Government  detectives,  who  quite 

1  C.  T.  p.  232,  Maulsby;  p.  221,  Wallace. 


166  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

naturally  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  the  men  involved 
in  it  were  those  implicated  in  the  President's  murder. 
Edward  Spangler,  the  scene-shifter,  was  also  in  Mon 
day's  drag-net.  He  was  arrested  late  in  the  day  at  the 
house  on  the  southeast  corner  of  Seventh  and  H  Streets, 
where  he  took  his  meals.  Spangler  slept  at  the  theatre, 
but  he  had  a  carpet-bag  at  the  boarding-house.  This, 
when  taken  in  evidence  by  the  detectives,  revealed  damag 
ing  contents  as  follows:  One  piece  of  rope  eighty  feet 
long  (probably  purloined  from  the  theatre  for  the  pur 
pose  of  crab-fishing,  which  was  Spangler's  favourite 
pastime),  some  blank  paper,  and  a  dirty  shirt-collar.1 
What  landed  Spangler  in  irons  was  the  excited  statement 
of  two  coloured  women  living  in  the  alley  back  of  the 
theatre,  to  the  effect  that  Booth  had  called  "Ned"  when 
he  brought  his  horse  to  the  stage-door  on  the  fateful 
night;  also  the  story  of  "Peanuts,"  John  Miles,  a  coloured 
boy,  and  Sleichmann,  a  stage-hand,  about  "Ned"  hand 
ing  over  Booth's  horse  to  Burroughs;  and  the  charge  of 
Jake  Ritterspaugh,  another  scene-shifter,  that  when 
Booth  made  his  flight  across  the  stage  and  out  the  door 
into  the  alley,  Spangler  said  to  Ritterspaugh:  "Don't 
say  which  way  he  went."2 

1  C.  T.  p.  98,  William  Eaton,  Charles  H.  Rosch. 

2  C.  T.  pp.  73-76,  81,  97,  Sleichmann,  Burroughs,  Turner,  Anderson,  Miles,  Ritters 
paugh. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  167 

Spangler  was  taken  first  to  the  Old  Capitol  Prison, 
along  with  the  other  Ford's  Theatre  folk  herded  there 
on  general  suspicion;  but  as  the  story  of  what  he  said  to 
Ritterspaugh  grew  and  grew  with  every  re-telling,  it 
began  to  look  as  if  the  scene-shifter  who  had  done  hostler 
work  for  "Mr.  John"  must  be  a  very  bad  man  indeed, 
and  he  was  transferred  to  the  monitor  and  ironed  and 
hooded  like  the  rest. 

At  ten  o'clock  Friday  night,  April  14th,  Atzerodt  left 
the  oyster  bay  to  which  he  had  returned  after  the  meeting 
at  the  Herndon  House  whereat  he  had  refused  to  kill 
Johnson,  and  went  to  Naylor's  stable  for  his  horse.  He 
asked  foreman  Fletcher  to  go  with  him  to  the  Union 
Hotel  near  by  —  at  E  and  Thirteen-and-a-Half  Streets  — 
and  take  a  drink.  This  they  did,  returning  afterward 
to  the  stable,  where  Fletcher  complained  to  Atzerodt  of 
Davy  Herold  staying  so  late  with  the  horse  he  had  hired. 
"Oh,  he  '11  be  back  after  a  while,"  said  Atzerodt,  and 
left,  going  to  the  Kirkwood  House  where  he  had  regis 
tered  that  morning.  He  stayed  there  but  a  few  moments, 
came  out  and  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  it  to  Keleher's 
stable  at  Eighth  and  E  Streets,  where  he  had  hired  it 
earlier  in  the  day.  It  was  about  eleven  o'clock  when  he 
returned  the  horse,  and  between  11.30  and  twelve  he 
got  on  a  Navy  Yard  car  at  Sixth  Street  and  the  Avenue 


168  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

and  was  spoken  to  by  Washington  Briscoe,  who  had  known 
him  for  seven  or  eight  years.  Briscoe  asked  Atzerodt  if  he 
had  heard  the  news  (meaning,  of  course,  the  news  of  the 
President's  assassination)  and  Atzerodt  said  he  had;  he 
seemed  very  much  excited,  and  begged  Briscoe  to  let 
him  sleep  with  him  at  the  Navy  Yard,  where  Briscoe  had 
a  store  in  which  he  lived.  This  Briscoe  refused,  and 
Atzerodt  got  out  of  the  car  with  him  at  Garrison  and 
I  Streets  and  waited  with  him  till  the  car  came  back  on 
its  return  trip,  when  Atzerodt  boarded  it.1 

Where  he  was  for  the  next  two  hours  we  do  not  know, 
but  about  2.30  A.  M.  he  went  to  the  Pennsylvania  House 
where  he  had  stopped  several  times,  the  last  time  so  lately 
as  Wednesday  night.  With  him,  either  by  accident  or  by 
design,  was  a  rather  small,  shabby,  weather-beaten  man, 
quite  dark-complexioned,  who  gave  his  name  as  Samuel 
Thomas,  paid  in  advance  for  a  night's  lodging,  and  was 
shown  with  Atzerodt  to  a  room  with  six  beds  in  it.  At 
four  o'clock  another  lodger  was  brought  to  this  room  — 
No.  53  —  and  went  to  bed;  his  name  was  Lieutenant 
W.  R.  Keim,  and  as  he  was  undressing  he  spoke  to  Atzerodt, 
with  whom  he  had  shared  a  room  at  this  house  before, 
asking  if  he  had  heard  of  the  assassination.  Atzerodt  said 
yes,  and  added  that  it  was  "an  awful  thing." 

1  C.  T.  p.  146,  Washington  Briscoe,  John  Fletcher. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  169 

The  man  Thomas  left  the  hotel  at  five  in  the  morning, 
asking  the  way  to  the  depot  and  apparently  bound  for  the 
6.15  A.  M.  train.  Atzerodt  left  about  six.1  At  eight,  or 
thereabouts,  he  was  in  Georgetown,  where  he  borrowed  of 
John  Caldwell,  a  man  he  knew,  ten  dollars,  giving  his 
revolver  (bought  only  a  month  ago)  as  security.2  At  ten  or 
eleven  Sunday  morning  Atzerodt  had  reached  the  neigh 
bourhood  of  Barnsville,  Montgomery  County,  Maryland, 
about  twenty-two  miles  from  Washington.  Here,  when  the 
rumoured  assassination  of  General  Grant  was  mentioned, 
Atzerodt  is  reported  to  have  said  something  that  sounded 
like  ''If  the  man  that  was  to  follow  him  has  followed  him, 
it  is  likely  to  be  so."  This  was  said  in  the  house  of  a  man 
named  Hezekiah  Metz,  to  whose  daughter  Atzerodt  had 
been  paying  his  addresses.  That  day,  however,  Miss 
Metz  turned  such  a  cold  shoulder  on  her  admirer  that  he 
did  not  stay  long,  but  went,  about  two  o'clock,  to  the 
house  of  his  cousin,  Hartman  Richter,  who  lived  near  by. 
There  he  stayed  until  he  was  dragged  out  of  bed  and 
arrested  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  Thursday,  April 
20th;  Richter  was  also  arrested.8 

The  arrest  was  made  by  Sergeant  L.  W.  Gemmill  of  the 
First  Delaware  Cavalry,  with  a  detail  of  six  men  from  his 


1  C.  T.  pp.   146-147,  John  Greenwalt,  James  Walker,  Lieut.  Keim. 

2C.   T.  p.    148,  John  Caldwell. 

3  C.  T.  p.  149,  Hezekiah  Metz,  Sergeant  L.  W.  GemmUl. 


170  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

regiment,  and  a  grateful  Government  paid  $25,000  for 
this  daring  "  capture."1 

When  in  irons  on  the  Montauk,  to  which  he  was  trans 
ferred  from  the  Saugus  on  Stanton's  orders,  April  21st, 
Atzerodt  asked  to  see  James  L.  McPhail,  Provost-Mar 
shal  of  the  State  of  Maryland,  on  whose  force  was  a  brother- 
in-law  of  Atzerodt's,  while  a  brother  of  his  had  been  on  it 
but  was  not  now.  These  two  men  urged  on  McPhail  that 
Atzerodt  wished  to  see  him,  and  McPhail  got  a  pass  admit 
ting  him  to  the  Montauk,  where  he  heard  Atzerodt's  state 
ment.2  Atzerodt  also  made  a  statement  to  Captain  Frank 
Monroe,  U.  S.  N.,  who  had  charge  of  him  on  board  the 
monitor.  The  statements  he  made  were  used  in  the  track 
ing  of  Booth  and  Herold,  but  were  not  allowed  in  evidence 
to  save  his  own  life.3 

Dr.  Mudd  was  arrested  on  Friday,  April  21st,  by  detec 
tives  Lovett,  Gavacan,  Williams,  and  Lloyd,  and  taken 
to  Bryan  town;  he  was  allowed  to  go  home  that  night 
on  his  promise  to  return  the  next  morning.  On  Monday 
he  was  taken  to  Washington,  where  he  was  confined  first 
in  Carroll  Prison.4 

With  the  arrival  in  Washington  of  Herold,  in  the  very 


1  Report  No.  99,  39th  Congress,  First  Session,  Committee  of  Claims. 

2  C.  T.  p.  148,  Marshal  McPhail. 

3  C.  T.  p.  150,  Captain  Monroe,  U.  S.  N. 

4C.  T.  pp.  87-90,  168,  Lovett,  Dana,  Williams,  Gavacan,  Lloyd,  Wells;  "  Life  of  Dr. 
Mudd,"  p.  34- 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  171 

early  morning  of  April  27th,  the  rounding  up  of  those 
to  be  tried  for  conspiracy  to  murder  President  Lincoln, 
Vice-President  Johnson,  Lieutenant-General  Grant,  and 
Secretaries  Seward  and  Stan  ton,  was  complete.  The 
prisons  were  full  of  suspects  who  might  later  be  tried  as 
accessories,  but  for  the  present  at  least  trial  would  proceed 
against  Herold,  Atzerodt,  Payne,  O'Laughlin,  Arnold, 
Mrs.  Surratt,  and  Dr.  Mudd. 

On  the  first  day  of  May,  the  Attorney-General  (Speed) 
having  given  it  as  his  opinion  that  these  persons  were 
"subject  to  the  jurisdiction  of,  and  lawfully  triable  before, 
a  Military  Commission,"  President  Johnson  ordered  that 
the  assistant  Adjutant-General  detail  nine  competent 
military  officers  to  serve  as  such  a  Commission;  that  the 
trial  be  conducted  by  the  Judge- Advocate-General  (Joseph 
E.  Holt)  in  person,  aided  by  his  assistant  and  such  special 
Judge- Advocates  as  he  might  designate;  and  that  Brevet- 
Major-General  Hartranft  be  assigned  to  duty  as  special 
Provost-Marshal-General  for  the  trial. 

On  May  6th  the  assistant  Adjutant-General,  W.  A. 
Nichols,  appointed  Major-Generals  David  Hunter  and 
Lewis  Wallace,  Brevet-Major-Generals  August  V.  Kautz, 
Brigadier-Generals  Albion  P.  Howe,  Robert  S.  Foster, 
and  T.  M.  Harris,  Brevet-Brigadier-General  Cyrus 
B.  Comstock,  Brevet-Colonel  Horace  Porter,  and 


172  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Lieutenant-Colonel  David  R.  Clendenin,  to  serve  as 
Commissioners. 

May  9th  General  Comstock  and  Colonel  Porter  were 
relieved  from  duty,  and  Brevet-Brigadier-General  James 
A.  Ekin  and  Brevet-Colonel  C.  H.  Tompkins  assigned 
to  duty  in  their  places  respectively. 

On  that  day  the  Commission  was  sworn,  various  other 
legal  preliminaries  not  interesting  to  the  lay  mind  were 
got  through  with,  and  the  prisoners  were  arraigned  on  a 
wordy  charge  and  specification,  the  sum  and  substance  of 
which  was  that  they  had  "  combined,  confederated,  and 
conspired,"  together  with  John  Surratt,  John  Wilkes  Booth 
the  "Canada  Cabinet,"  and  the  President  and  other  high 
officials  of  the  Confederacy,  and  with  "others  unknown," 
to  kill  Lincoln,  Johnson,  Grant,  Seward,  and  Stan  ton. 

All  the  prisoners  at  the  bar  pleaded  to  this  charge  and 
specification  "Not  Guilty,"  whereupon  the  Commission 
adjourned  to  meet  on  Thursday  morning,  May  llth,  at 
ten  o'clock  A.  M.1 

On  April  29th  the  prisoners  on  the  ironclads  had 
been  transferred  from  the  custody  of  Commodore  Mont 
gomery,  Commandant  of  the  Navy  Yard,  to  that  of  General 
Hancock,  in  command  of  the  defences  of  the  capital. 
General  Hancock  ordered  them  confined  in  cells  on  the 


i  C.  T.  pp.  17-23;  O.  R.  Series  II,  vol.  viii,  p.  699. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  173 

third  floor  of  the  old  penitentiary  building  in  the  Arsenal 
grounds,  under  the  cellar  floor  of  which  John  Booth  had 
then  for  two  nights  and  a  day  been  sleeping.  This  build 
ing,  erected  in  1836,  had  not  been  used  for  a  prison  since 
the  breaking  out  of  the  war,  when  the  convicts  then  con 
fined  there  were  sent  to  Albany,  N.  Y. 

That  there  might  be  as  little  difficulty  as  possible  in 
getting  the  heavily-manacled  prisoners  from  their  cells  to 
the  court  room,  it  was  determined  to  fit  up  for  the  trial  a 
room  close  by  the  cells.  This  room  was  30  by  45  feet,  with 
a  ceiling  not  more  than  eleven  feet  high,  and  had  only  four 
windows,  which  were  covered  with  a  thick  iron  grating. 
The  room  was  whitewashed  for  the  occasion,  new  tables 
and  chairs  were  bought,  and  a  prisoners'  dock  was  built 
along  the  western  end  of  the  room.  This  dock  was  a 
platform  about  four  feet  broad  and  raised  some  twelve 
inches  from  the  floor.  It  had  a  strong  railing  in  front  of  it, 
entirely  separating  the  prisoners  from  all  in  the  room. 
Near  the  south  end  of  the  wall  against  which  this  was  built 
was  the  door  leading  to  the  corridor  on  which  were  the 
cells.1 

Each  prisoner  was  confined  in  a  separate  cell  under 
four  guards;  all,  except  Mrs.  Surratt,  wore  bags  of  rough 
gray  flannel  over  their  heads  —  replacing  the  canvas  sacks 

1  Washington  Star,  May  12,  1865;  Frank  Leslie's  Weekly,  May  27,  1865;  Harper's 
Weekly,  June  3,  1865.  See  Appendix  XXVII:  Note  on  curious  crowds  at  trial. 


174  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

of  the  monitors  —  tied  under  their  chins,  with  a  single  slit 
in  them  over  the  mouth.  In  addition,  each  wore  hand 
cuffs  fastened  together  by  a  bar  of  iron  fourteen  inches 
long;  and  on  the  left  ankle  a  shackle  with  a  two-foot  chain 
to  the  other  end  of  which  was  fastened  a  cone-shaped  iron 
weight  of  about  75  pounds.  This  being  deemed  insuf 
ficient  in  the  cases  of  Payne  and  Atzerodt,  some  further 
weight  and  hindrance  of  ball  and  chain  was  attached  to 
them.1 

When  they  shuffled  into  the  prisoners'  dock  with  seven 
soldiers,  separating  each  one  of  them  from  his  nearest 
neighbours,  they  were  further  restrained  by  an  iron  bar 
which  fastened  them  all  together  by  passing  through  a  hole 
in  the  apex  of  each  of  the  75-pound  weights.  Their  hoods 
were  removed  when  they  were  taken  into  court. 

As  they  entered  the  door  at  the  corner  of  their  dock, 
Arnold  came  first,  then  a  soldier,  then  Dr.  Mudd,  then  a 
soldier,  then  Spangler,  a  soldier,  O'Laughlin,  a  soldier, 
Atzerodt,  a  soldier,  Payne,  a  soldier,  Herold,  a  soldier; 
last  came  Mrs.  Surratt,  always  heavily  veiled.  She  sat 
a  little  apart  from  her  fellow  prisoners,  at  the  extreme  left 
of  the  dock  as  the  spectators  faced  it.  As  she  sat  in  her 
corner  this  is  what  she  saw:  In  front  of  the  railing 
of  the  dock  two  tables,  at  which  the  prisoners'  counsel 


*  Leslie's  Weekly,   May   27,   1865. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  175 

sat.  Over  near  a  window  about  the  centre  of  the  room's 
north  side  (to  her  left)  the  seat  of  the  Judge- Advocate- 
General  and  his  assistants.  In  front  of  them  a  long  table, 
around  which  sat  the  nine  members  of  the  Military  Com 
mission,  each  in  the  full  uniform  of  his  rank,  General 
Hunter,  President  of  the  Commission,  at  the  eastern  end 
of  the  table,  facing  the  prisoners.  The  main  entrance  to 
the  court-room  was  behind  General  Hunter,  in  the  north 
east  corner  of  the  room,  diagonally  opposite  Mrs.  Surratt. 
Down  the  centre  of  the  room  were  three  wooden  pillars 
supporting  the  ceiling.  Between  pillars  one  and  two 
(reckoning  from  the  dock)  there  was  a  table  where  the 
official  stenographers  sat,  and  beyond  that  and  very  close 
to  it  the  witness  stand.  Then  came  the  second  pillar,  and 
beyond  that  another  table  used  by  the  court  for  various 
purposes.  Beyond  the  third  pillar  was  a  wooden  box  in 
which  were  kept  various  articles  used  in  evidence:  Booth's 
slit  boot  found  at  Dr.  Mudd's,  his  saddle  discovered  on 
Cox's  farm  where  his  horse  was  shot,  the  things  taken  from 
his  pockets  by  Conger  —  all  but  the  diary !  —  and  the  little 
Deringer  picked  up  off  the  floor  of  the  box  after  he  jumped ; 
Payne's  compass  seized  by  his  "captors,"  and  his  boot 
with  Booth's  name  faintly  discernible  in  it;  knives  which 
Payne  and  Atzerodt  threw  away;  Spangler's  piece  of  crab 
bing-rope,  etc.  Balancing  the  table  of  the  Commissioners, 


176  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

on  the  south  side  of  the  room,  was  the  press  table;  at  the 
far  east  end  of  the  room  were  a  few  chairs  for  spectators. 

Hon.  Reverdy  Johnson,  Maryland's  most  prominent 
lawyer  and  statesman,  volunteered  his  services  in  the 
defence  of  Mrs.  Surratt,  whom  he  had  never  seen  until  he 
visited  her  in  prison  on  May  12th  and  in  a  talk  with  her 
became  convinced  of  her  innocence.  She  was  further 
represented  by  Frederick  Aiken  and  John  W.  Clampitt. 
Dr.  Mudd  had  the  extremely  able  counsel  of  General 
Thomas  Ewing,  a  distinguished  officer  of  the  Union  army, 
brother-in-law  of  General  Sherman,  and  an  excellent 
lawyer;  also  the  assistance  of  Mr.  Frederick  Stone,  who 
further  represented  Herold ;  while  General  Ewing  was  also 
chief  counsel  for  Arnold  and  Spangler.  Payne  and 
Atzerodt  were  represented  by  a  brilliant  legal  orator, 
William  E.  Doster.  Walter  S.  Cox  had  charge  of 
O'Laughlin's  case.  Each  of  the  accused  made  a  motion 
for  a  separate  trial,  but  it  was  in  each  instance  refused. 

The  taking  of  testimony  began  Friday  morning,  May 
12th,  Lieutenant-General  Grant  being  one  of  the  first 
witnesses. 

The  penitentiary  was  nearest  to  the  city  side  of  the 
Arsenal  grounds,  and  farthest  from  the  river  side.  Four- 
and-a-half  Street  ends  at  the  Arsenal  gate,  and  in  those 
days  it  ran  straight  into  the  old  prison  gate  and  ended  there 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  177 

actually  though  not  technically;  because  in  the  extension 
northward  of  the  Arsenal  grounds  in  '61,  the  bit  of  Four- 
and-a-half  Street  which  was  taken  in  then  became  an 
Arsenal  road. 

Not  many  sounds  went  floating  up  to  those  four  grated 
windows  of  the  court-room,  but  the  warmth  of  spring  and 
presently  the  heat  of  summer  came  stealing  through  before 
the  long  sessions  were  over.  With  anywhere  upward  of 
fifty  persons  occupying  a  space  30x45  feet  under  an  11-foot 
ceiling,  the  air  must  always  have  been  heavy,  drowsy. 

Outside,  in  \Yashington,  was  springtime,  such  riot  of 
springtime  as  only  the  beautiful  Capital  City  knows. 
One  wonders  if, as  the  long  sessions  wore  on, Davy  Herold's 
mind  did  not  sometimes  wander  from  these  questions  of 
life  and  death  —  practically  certain  death  to  him  —  to 
the  open  country  where  he  so  dearly  loved  to  ride;  if 
Spangler  did  not  think  wistfully  of  the  crab-fishing  that 
was  going  on  pleasurably,  unmindful  of  his  changed 
estate;  if  the  Florida  boy  whose  life  had  been  lived  out  of 
doors  never  sighed  for  a  breath  of  spring,  for  a  smell  of 
moist,  fruitful  earth. 

And,  dowTn  beneath  the  bricks  of  the  cellar  floor  in  this 
same  grim  building,  lay  all  that  was  mortal  of  beautiful 
John  Booth,  his  clustering  curls  matted  with  blood  and  his 
winsome  smile  forever  set  in  the  agony  of  an  awful  death. 


178  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

It  is  doubtful  if  ever  in  the  history  of  jurisprudence  a 
trial  has  been  held  in  which  justice  was  more  difficult  to 
approximate.  First  of  all,  there  was  sectional  feeling, 
which  had  been  running  high  for  years,  higher  for  the  last 
four  years,  and  was  now  lashed  into  its  highest  fury  by 
the  common  belief  that  the  Confederate  leaders  were 
responsible  for  Lincoln's  death.  Then  there  was  the 
natural  rage  against  the  alleged  slayers  of  a  beloved  ruler, 
accentuated  by  the  manner  and  the  moment  of  that  ruler's 
taking  off.  Thirdly,  there  was  politics,  by  reason  of  the 
fact  that  the  prisoners  were  believed  to  be  affiliated  with 
that  secret  organization  known  as  "Sons  of  Liberty," 
which  was  opposed  to  the  war,  in  league  with  the 
Democrats,  supported  McClellan,  and  was  deemed  by 
most  ardent  Republicans  treasonable  and  treacherous. 
There  was  a  religious  bitterness,  too.  The  Surratts  were 
Catholics,  Dr.  Mudd  was  a  Catholic,  O'Laughlin  was  a 
Catholic,  and  the  report  gained  wide  currency  that  all 
of  those  apprehended  were  of  the  Roman  communion  and 
that  the  Church  of  Rome  had  planned  the  slaughter  of  the 
President.  Another  factor  was  the  great  rewards  offered 
for  the  apprehension  of  Booth,  Herold,  Atzerodt,  Payne, 
and  John  Surratt.  And  lastly,  in  addition  to  all  the  usual 
things  which  tend  to  defeat  the  ends  of  justice  in  a  criminal 
trial,  there  was  the  extraordinary  notoriety  to  be  gained  by 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  179 

sensational  testimony  at  any  of  the  sessions  whose  least 
word  (when  the  court  allowed)  was  published  far  and  wide 
and  discussed  as  almost  never  before  or  since  has  trial 
evidence  been  discussed. 

There  were  witnesses  who  would  swear  anything  to 
prove  that  the  crime  was  chargeable  to  Jefferson  Davis, 
to  the  Democrats,  to  the  Catholics;  there  were  witnesses 
who  would  swear  anything  to  get  the  rewards  or  the 
notoriety;  there  were  witnesses  who  were  anxious  chiefly 
to  prove  the  important  parts  they  played;  and  witnesses 
who,  not  daring  to  hope  they  might  prove  themselves 
important,  had  perforce  to  be  content  with  disproving  the 
fancied  importance  of  some  one  else.  There  were  excit 
able  witnesses  who  thought  they  saw  things  we  know  they 
could  never  have  seen;  suborned  witnesses  who  were 
willing  to  have  seen  anything,  for  a  consideration; 
intimidated  witnesses,  anxious  to  save  their  own  skins; 
and  so  on. 

The  trial,  which  seems  hideously  unfair  to  us  now,  was 
probably  as  fair  as  a  trial  could  be  in  those  circumstances, 
in  those  times.  From  the  point  of  view  of  the  prisoners 
it  wras  inhuman.  But  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  frenzied 
North  it  seemed  quite  equitable.  There  are  many  things 
which  may  safely  be  remembered  to-day  in  extenuation  of 
some  at  least,  if  not  of  all,  of  the  prisoners,  that  doubt- 


180  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

less  had,  in  the  wide  interests  of  the  Nation,  to  be  disre 
garded  then. 

It  was,  for  instance,  feared  by  many  in  the  North  that 
the  war  was  not  really  over;  that  on  the  slightest  relaxation 
of  severity  in  the  attitude  of  the  victors  the  vanquished 
would  again  resort  to  arms  —  not  as  Confederate  States 
again,  perhaps,  but  as  separate  armed  bodies,  engaged  here 
and  there,  as  the  spirit  of  revolt  moved  them,  in  guerrilla 
warfare. 

The  outraged  North  cried  loudly  for  vengeance  —  for 
getting  how  he  hated  vengeance  for  whose  sake  they  desired 
it  —  and  those  in  authority  had  their  ears  to  the  ground. 
Stanton,  the  relentless,  hated  anything  that  defied  his 
iron  rule,  hated  the  " treacherous  and  dangerous  enemy" 
he  had  worked  so  ceaselessly  to  subdue ;  he  hated  Southern 
women  in  particular,  and  he  hated  all  Catholics  in  general. 
Judge-Advocate-General  Holt  was  an  especial  alarmist 
on  the  "Sons  of  Liberty,"1  and  could  never  quite  forgive 
Lincoln  for  treating  them  as  a  joke.  Johnson  was  zealous 
to  show  himself  righteously  incensed  by  the  crime  that 
made  him  President,  and  the  best  way  he  could  do  this  and 

1  See  Holt's  alarmed  letter  to  Stanton,  published  in  the  New  York  Tribune,  October  17, 
1864.  Holt  recommended  the  hanging  of  Horsey,  Milligan,and  Bowles,  sentenced  in  the 
Indiana  Treason  Trial,  on  December  18,  1864;  but  Lincoln  refused  to  take  action  against 
these  "Sons  of  Liberty,"  and  on  April  3,  1866,  the  United  States  Supreme  Court  declared 
sentence  by  a  military  commission  illegal,  and  the  men  were  freed.  See  Rhodes,  vol. 
v.,  pp.  316-329.  Nicolay  and  Hay,  vol.  viii.,  pp.  8  el  seq.  Indianapolis  Treason  Trials, 
reported  by  Pitman,  published  by  Moore,  Wilstach  and  Baldwin. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  181 

put  down  the  feeling  that  his  hands  were  not  quite  clean, 
was  to  lend  what  authority  of  his  office  was  needed  to  a 
rigorous  prosecution. 

The  public  prints  were  full  of  inflammatory  articles  — 
quite  comical  to  read  now  —  which  represented  that  oddly 
assorted  little  band  of  prisoners  as  the  most  desperate  and 
bloodthirsty  villains  that  ever  menaced  the  safety  of  a 
nation.  Pictures  were  taken  of  them  as  they  looked  after 
days  of  hideous  confinement  in  the  holds  of  the  monitors, 
and  hair-raising  tales  were  freely  circulated  about  them. 
Here  and  there  throughout  the  country  were  a  few  persons 
who  knew  different  —  who  had  known  these  young  men 
and  that  motherly,  neighbourly  matron,  and  knew  that, 
whatever  might  be  proved  against  them  in  this  great  crime, 
nothing  could  alter  the  entire  humanness  of  their  simple 
lives  hitherto.  But  these  were  few  compared  to  the 
millions  who  believed,  as  they  were  told,  otherwise;  their 
feeble  voices  of  pleading  defence  were  lost  in  the  tumultu 
ous  crying  for  blood. 

Under  these  conditions  the  trial  went  forward,  while  the 
only  heart  that  could  have  inspired  a  great  forgivingness 
lay  still  in  Oak  Ridge  Cemetery  at  Springfield,  Illinois. 
A  good  part  of  the  first  few  days  was  taken  up  with  a  weak 
attempt  to  implicate  the  Confederate  leaders.  There  is 
fair  reason  to  believe  that  members  of  the  "Canada 


182  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Cabinet"  knew  of  Booth's  plans  for  the  abduction  of 
President  Lincoln,  but  none  whatever  to  show  that  they 
plotted  his  death.  Much  of  the  testimony  that 
attempted  to  prove  them  guilty  of  such  conspiracy  was 
later  proved  perjury.1 

Not  much  could  be  urged  in  Davy  Herold's  behalf,  not 
much  in  Lewis  Payne's.  Davy  was  with  Booth  in  his 
flight,  and  if  he  had  not  conspired  with  him,  at  least  he 
came  within  the  death  penalty  under  Stanton's  proclama 
tion  of  April  20th,  declaring  "all  persons  harbouring  or 
secreting"  Booth,  Surratt,  or  Herold,  "or  either  of  them, 
or  aiding  or  assisting  their  concealment  or  escape,  will 
be  treated  as  accomplices  in  the  murder  of  the  President 
and  the  attempted  assassination  of  the  Secretary  of  State, 
and  shall  be  subject  to  trial  before  a  Military  Commission 
and  the  punishment  of  death."2 

And  the  Florida  boy  made  no  defence,  nor  could  any  be 
made  for  him.  It  was  not  his  fault,  but  the  over-ruling  of 
Providence,  that  he  did  not  leave  five  dead  behind  him  in 
the  Seward  household.  Not  that  five  dead  were  any  great 
matter,  though,  to  this  boy  of  not  quite  twenty,  who  had 
been  through  the  carnage  of  Chancellorsville,  Antietam, 

1  See  "The  Judicial  Murder  of  Mary  E.  Surratt,"  by  David  Miller  DeWitt,  published 
by  J.  Murphy,  Baltimore,  1895;  also  Rogers's  Minority  Report,  House  Committee  on 
Assassination,   Report  No.   104,    3Qth  Congress,   First  Secsion.        See  Appendix   III: 
Note  on  Confederate  complicity. 

2  O   R.  Series  I,  vol.'xlvi.,  part  iii.,  p.  847. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  183 

Gettysburg;  not  that  it  seemed  unsoldierlike  to  him  to  go 
single-handed  into  the  home  of  one  of  the  nation's  heads, 
and  strike  as  for  four  years  he  had  struck  in  battle  at  the 
nation's  defenders.  Mr.  Doster  pleaded  eloquently  for  the 
boy;  pleaded  the  responsibility  of  the  Nation  that  had 
allowed  him  to  go  to  school,  first  to  slavery  and  then  to 
war,  and  that  ought  to  give  him  one  better  chance  before 
sending  him  out  of  the  world.  To  all  this  the  boy  listened 
apathetically.  He  was  willing,  yes,  eager,  to  die;  his  sole 
cause  for  anguish  was  that  he  believed  himself  responsible, 
by  his  midnight  return  to  her  house,  for  the  probable  doom 
of  Mrs.  Surratt. 

It  could  be  said  for  Atzerodt  that  if  he  had  undertaken 
to  "  lie  in  wait  for  Andrew  Johnson  with  the  intent  unlaw 
fully  and  maliciously  to  kill  and  murder  him,"  he  had  not 
been  very  indefatigable  about  it,  for  the  said  Andrew  John 
son  was  lying  drunk  in  his  room  all  evening,  and  Atzerodt 
was  not,  according  to  the  evidence,  in  the  Kirkwood  House 
during  that  whole  time  except  for  five  minutes.1  It  could 
not,  however,  be  proved  that  he  was  without  guilty  knowl 
edge  of  the  plot  to  kill  the  President  and  the  Secretary  of 
State,  and  while  that  was  not  the  charge  against  him  it 
was  probably  the  charge  on  which  he  was  actually,  though 

1  The  room  rented  by  Atzerodt  was  in  a  different  wing  from  that  in  which  the  Vice- 
President  lodged,  and  removed  by  many  perplexing  turns  and  four  flights  of  stairs  from 
the  quarters  of  Andrew  Johnson. 


184  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

not  technically,  convicted.  For  more  than  two  hours 
before  Booth  and  Payne  committed  their  crimes  Atzerodt, 
by  his  own  confession,  knew  their  intent.  Personal 
cowardice  kept  him  from  performing  his  allotted  share, 
and  if  he  hated  bloodshed  enough  to  refuse  participation 
in  it,  he  did  not  hate  it  enough  to  forestall  it  by  giving 
warning  against  the  designs  of  his  friends. 

There  was  no  great  pother  about  the  death  sentence 
on  these  three.  Lewis  Payne  was  friendless  in  the 
Capital  and  in  all  the  North,  practically.  Atzerodt, 
the  carriage-painter,  had  none  to  make  violent  outcry 
over  his  fate.  Davy  Herold  had  a  widowed  mother  and 
seven  sisters  whose  hearts  broke  over  him,  and  a  lot  of 
old  schoolmates  who  marvelled  sadly  at  the  awful  thing 
in  which  bright,  likable  Davy  was  overtaken.1  But 
there  was  no  loud  outcry.  That  was  reserved  princi 
pally  for  Mrs.  Surratt  and,  after  her,  for  Dr.  Mudd. 

Dr.  Mudd  (who  was  thirty-two  years  old,  and  not 
forty-five  as  commonly  represented)2  was  a  cultivated, 
kindly  Christian  gentleman,  a  hard-working  country 


1  The  present  writer  has  talked  with  many  men  who  knew  Davy  Herold  well,  and 
liked  him  well  —  including  Rear-Admiral  George  N.  Baird,  U.  S.  N.,  Retired,  who 
went  to  school  with  Davy,  and  Mr.  Walter  Burton  who  was  a  frequent  and  intimate 
caller  on  Davy's  sisters,  and  saw  much  of  Davy  at  home  as  well  as  at  the  National  Hotel. 

2  He  was  born  on  his  father's  large  plantation  in  Charles  County,  Maryland,  on  Decem 
ber  20,  1833.     He  was  a  graduate  of  Georgetown  College  and,  in  1856,  of  the  school  of 
medicine  and  surgery  of  the  University  of  Maryland,  at  Baltimore.     He  was  married  on 
November  26,  1857,  to  his  childhood  sweetheart,  Miss  Sarah  Francis  Dyer. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  185 

practitioner,  a  devoted  young  husband  and  father,  a 
good  son  and  brother.  There  was  not  a  particle  of  evi 
dence  that  he  knew  anything  of  the  plot  to  kill,  although 
he  probably  knew  of  the  earlier  plot  to  capture.  If  he 
recognized  Booth  when  the  assassin  was  at  his  house, 
it  was  before  he  had  heard  of  Booth's  mad  deed;  and  if 
he  "aided  or  assisted"  in  his  "concealment  or  escape," 
it  was  five  days  before  Stanton's  proclamation  made 
that  treasonable.  There  was  nothing  to  show  that  Booth 
had  told  Dr.  Mudd  of  his  crime,  and  everything  to  show 
that  he  had  not.  Nevertheless,  Dr.  Mudd,  after  suffer 
ing  all  the  horrors  of  brutal  imprisonment  while  trial 
was  pending  and  in  progress,  was  sentenced  for  life  to 
the  Dry  Tortugas,  an  island  of  absolute  barrenness  more 
than  one  hundred  miles  from  the  nearest  point  of  main 
land  in  Florida.  On  this  island  is  the  largest,  most 
expensive,  and  most  useless  fortification  of  masonry  the 
United  States  has  ever  built.  Dr.  Mudd  was  allowed  to 
see  his  wife  but  once  after  his  arrest,  and  that  was  on  the 
sixth  of  July,  the  day  before  the  execution  of  four  of  his 
fellows  and  a  day  or  two  before  Bis  departure  with  the 
three  others  for  Dry  Tortugas.  The  scaffold  was  being 
erected  when  Mrs.  Mudd  entered  the  penitentiary  yard, 
and  as  she  was  leaving  she  saw  poor  Anna  Surratt  come 
to  bid  her  mother  good-bye.  Guards  were  present  at 


186  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

the  brief  interview  between  husband  and  wife,  and  in 
the  presence  of  soldiers  they  parted  —  forever,  by  the 
terms  of  his  sentence.1 

Arnold2  and  O'Laughlin3  also  received  life  sentences, 
and  Spangler  was  sentenced  for  six  years.4 

Mrs.  Surratt's  case  excited  the  country  more  than  all 
the  others  together.  She  was  a  woman,  she  was  widowed 
of  her  natural  defender,  she  was  a  mother.  She  was 
highly  educated,  refined,  a  Christian,  and  had  hitherto 
led  a  blameless  life. 

The  charges  against  her  were  made  by  Weichmann  — 
whom  she  had  treated  as  a  son  and  who,  by  his  reputed 
confession  and  by  a  workl  of  evidence,  probably  turned 
State's  evidence  in  fear  and  to  save  his  own  neck;  and  by 
her  tenant,  Lloyd,  who  admitted  that  he  was  drunk 
on  the  day  when  Mrs.  Surratt  said  to  him  certain  things 
he  repeated  against  her,  a  month  later,  to  her  undoing, 
and  who  was  not  able  to  recall  any  of  these  things  until 
they  promised  to  be  worth  a  part  of  $75,000  ;8  and  by 

1  "  Life  of  Dr.  Mudd,"  p.  40.  Dr.  Mudd  was  pardoned  by  President  Johnson  on  Febru 
ary  13,  1869,  released  from  prison  March  8th,  reached  home  March  2oth.    He  was  thirty- 
five  years  old  then,  a  frail,  broken,  almost  destitute  man.      He  died  of  pneumonia  on 
January  10,  1883,  and  was  buried  in  St.  Mary's  Cemetery,  at  Bryantown  Church,  where 
he  first  met  Booth. 

2  Arnold  was  also  pardoned  by  President  Johnson,  February  13,  1869. 

3  At  the  time  the  pardons  were  issued  to  Mudd,  Arnold  and  Spangler,  an  order  was 
given  for  the  disinterment  of  O'Laughlin's  remains  and  their  delivery  to  his  mother. 

4  Spangler  lived  only  eighteen  months  after  his  release,  being  cared  for  during  all 
that  time  by  Dr.  Mudd.     For  Spangler's  statement,  see  Appendix  XXVIII. 

»  C.  T.  p.  87,  Lloyd. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  187 

the  officers  at  her  arrest  who  repeated  against  her  her 
declaration  that  she  had  never  before  seen  Payne.1 

The  incontrovertible  evidence  against  Mrs.  Surratt 
was  that  for  about  three  months  before  the  assassination 
John  Booth  had  been  a  frequent  caller  at  her  house; 
that  Payne  had  twice  in  the  month  of  March  stayed  there 
—  once  over  night  only,  the  other  time  for  two  or  three 
days;  that  Atzerodt  had  several  times  spent  a  night  there.9 
There  was  no  evidence  that  Arnold,  O'Laughlin,  Mudd, 
or  Spangler  had  ever  been  there,  and  slight  evidence  to 
show  that  Davy  Herold  had  ever  gone  there.  Incon 
trovertible,  too,  was  the  fact  that  Booth  called  on  Mrs. 
Surratt  soon  after  he  projected  the  murder,  on  Friday 
afternoon  about  two  o'clock,  and  that  she  went  soon 
thereafter  to  Surrattsville.3  But  there  was  nothing  in 
any  of  this  to  hang  a  woman;  and  by  every  count  there 
was  exactly  as  much  against  Weichmann  as  against 
Mrs.  Surratt.  There  was  no  reason  why  he  should  not 
have  been  tried  and  hanged,  except  that  he  was  given 
immunity  for  his  evidence.4 

Probable  evidence  against  Mrs.  Surratt  tends  to  prove 


1  C.  T.  pp.  121-123,  Smith,  Wermerskirch. 

2C.  T.  pp.  121,  130-135,  Miss  Fitzpatrick,  Anna  Surratt,  Mrs.  Holohan,  Miss  Anna 
Ward. 

3  C.  T.  pp.  121,  125,  126,  Mrs.  Emma  Offutt,  George  H.  Calvert,  B.  F.  Gwynne,  John 
Nothey.     See  Appendix  XXIX.:    Note  on  Nothey. 

4  See  Appendix  XXX.:    Statement  of  John  P.  Brophy. 


188  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

that  she  knew  of  the  abduction  plot,   and   that  if  she 
deplored    its   dangers,   she   did   not   deplore   its   design. 
Not  many  Northern  women  would  have  deplored  a  plot 
to  seize  Jefferson  Davis  in  Richmond  and  take  him  to 
Washington  in  the  hope  of  ending  the  war,  though  they 
might  have  been  tearfully  anxious  to  think  of  their  own 
boys  in  such  a  hazardous  undertaking.     It  is  also  prob 
able  that  Mrs.  Surratt  carried,  at  Booth's  request,  a  small 
package  to  Surrattsville  the  day  of  the  murder  and  left 
it  with  Lloyd,  saying  that  it  would  be  called  for.     Even 
if  she  knew  what  was  in  the  package  —  a  field-glass  — 
such    knowledge   would    hardly  argue  her  acquaintance 
with  Booth's  intent  to  murder.     It  is  probable  that  when 
Booth  learned  she  was  going  to  Surrattsville  (and  Weich- 
mann,  on  whose  testimony  all  this  rests,  said  the  journey 
was  determined  on  before  Booth  called)  he  asked  her 
to  tell  Lloyd  that  the  carbines  left  with  him  by  John 
Surratt,   Atzerodt,  and    Herold    about    five    weeks    ago, 
would  be  called  for  that  night.     Their  immediate  readi 
ness  on  demand  was  not  a  great  matter,  but  it  would 
save   a  few  minutes'  delay;  though,  in   the  event  of  a 
few    minutes    meaning    much,   it    is    hardly  likely  that 
Booth    would    stop    at    all,    as    his    safety    would     lie 
more   in   flight  and  concealment  than  in  firearms.     But 
even   if  he  asked    Mrs.  Surratt    to    deliver  his  message 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  189 

to  Lloyd,  it  is  not  necessarily  implied  that  he  told 
her  his  reasons. 

At  least  the  likelihood  of  her  innocence  was  as  great 
as  the  likelihood  of  her  cold-blooded  guilt,1  and  feeling 
ran  high  over  her  case.  To  their  great  shame,  certain 
Protestants  believed  she  must  be  guilty  because  she  was 
a  Catholic;  while  many  Catholics,  on  the  other  hand, 
acted  in  as  mistaken  zeal  and  argued  that  because  she 
was  a  Catholic,  she  must  be  innocent.  If  some  Protestant 
zealots  charged  the  Church  of  Rome  with  her  alleged 
crime,  some  adherents  of  the  Church  of  Rome  were  as 
foolish  in  accepting  the  charge  and  feeling  the  Church 
involved  in  the  controversy. 

It  was  not  really  believed,  however,  that  any  extreme 
sentence  would  be  pronounced  upon  Mrs.  Surratt  in 
view  of  her  age,  her  sex,  her  previous  reputation,  and  the 
character  of  the  evidence  against  her.  And  between 
the  time  sentence  was  pronounced  and  the  time  it  was 
carried  into  execution  the  interval  was  so  brief  that 
nothing  could  be  done.  She  was  sentenced  on  July  6th 
and  hanged  on  July  7th. 

After  signing  the  decree  fixing  her  penalty  at  death, 
five  of  the  nine  judges  who  condemned  her  petitioned 
clemency  for  her  on  account  of  her  age  and  sex.  This 

111  Any  candid  person  who  will  review  the  evidence  will  be  forced  to  the  conclusion 
that  she  was  an  innocent  woman."  Stewart,  p.  169. 


190  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

petition  was  taken  by  Judge- Advocate- General  Holt  to 
President  Johnson,  who  read  it  in  Judge  Holt's  presence, 
and  also  considered  it  at  a  Cabinet  meeting.  In  the 
outcry  that  followed  on  Mrs.  Surratt's  hanging,  Johnson 
tried  to  disclaim  responsibility  by  swearing  he  had  never 
seen  the  petition  for  clemency,  and  Judge  Holt  was 
accused  of  withholding  it.  This  charge  embittered  all 
the  rest  of  Judge  Holt's  life,  and  has  given  rise  to  a  volumi 
nous  controversy,  the  simple  truth  of  which  seems  to  be 
that  Judge  Holt  did  indeed  present  the  petition  — 
whether  he  argued  against  it  or  not  —  and  that  Johnson's 
disclaimer  and  the  silence  of  the  Cabinet  were  a  rank 
injustice  to  a  man  who,  though  narrow  and  bigoted,  did 
not  merit  the  charge  of  dishonour.1 

The  taking  of  testimony  finished  Wednesday,  June 
14th.  The  arguments  for  defence  and  prosecution, 
with  some  other  court  matters,  occupied  very  nearly  two 
weeks.  It  was  ten  o'clock  Thursday  morning,  June 
29th,  when  the  Commission  met,  with  closed  doors, 
to  deliberate  upon  the  evidence.  On  Wednesday, 
July  5th,  the  sentences  of  the  court  were  approved 
by  the  President,  who  named  the  Dry  Tortugas  as 
the  place  of  imprisonment  for  Mudd,  Arnold,  O'Laughlin 
and  Spangler,  and  Friday,  July  7th,  as  the  day  for 

1  See  Holt-Johnson  Controversy,  Appendix  XXXI. 


Davev  Herold 


George  A.  Atzerodt 


Lewis  Payne  Mrs.  Mary  E.  Surratt 

THE  FOUR  CONSPIRATORS  WHO  WERE  HANGED 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  191 

the    execution    of  Payne,  Herold,  Atzerodt,  and    Mrs. 
Surratt.1 

At  nine  o'clock  on  Thursday  morning,  July  6th,  General 
Hartranft,  the  special  Provost-Marshal,  accompanied 
by  the  nine  judges  of  the  court  and  the  officers  of  the 
prison,  went  to  the  cell  of  each  prisoner  and  read  the 
verdict.  Later,  the  four  condemned  to  die  next  day 
between  the  hours  of  ten  and  two,  were  taken  to  a  large 
room  on  the  ground  floor,  where  their  friends  and  spiritual 
advisers  were  allowed  to  see  them.  There  was  no  one 
to  see  the  Florida  boy  except  a  Baptist  clergyman,  Dr. 
Gillette,  who  was  a  total  stranger  to  this  son  of  another 
Baptist  clergyman  alike  unknown  to  him.  Atzerodt 
was  visited  by  his  mother  and  by  a  poor,  ignorant  woman 
who  was  said  to  have  been  his  mistress.  Dr.  Butler, 
pastor  of  a  Lutheran  church  in  Washington,  and  an 
army  chaplain,  was  ordered  to  see  Atzerodt  and  give  him 
such  spiritual  comfort  as  he  would  take.  He  found  the 
condemned  carriage-painter  reading  the  Bible  at  that 
passage  in  Numbers  containing  the  warning:  "Be  sure 
your  sin  will  find  you  out."  Atzerodt  entreated  Dr. 
Butler  to  preach  to  young  men  on  that  text  and  to  drive 
it  home  to  them  with  the  imploring  message  of  a  man 
about  to  die.2  The  saddest  scenes  were  those  of  which 

1  O.  R.  Series  II.,  vol.  viii.,  p.  699;  see  also  Appendix  XXXII:     Order  for  execution. 

2  Told  the  present  writer  by  Dr.  Butler. 


192  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Davy  Herold  and  Mrs.  Surratt  were  the  centres.  Davy's 
seven  sisters  clustered  around  him  in  grief  so  piteous  that 
the  guards  turned  away,  unable  to  bear  the  sight  of  it. 
And  the  anguish  of  poor  Anna  Surratt  moved  every  one 
to  tears.  Fathers  Walter  and  Wiget  attended  her  mother 
spiritually,  and  the  frenzied  girl  went  trembling  away 
to  make  appeals  for  her  mother's  life.  She  went  to 
Stanton's  office  but  found  it  barricaded  against  her,  in 
effect,  by  the  War  Secretary's  strict  order  that  she  must 
not  be  admitted.1  She  went  to  General  Hancock,  who 
assured  her  sadly,  gently,  that  he  could  do  nothing.  She 
went,  early  on  Friday  morning,  to  the  White  House  where 
she  pleaded  in  vain  to  see  the  President.  The  nearest 
she  could  get  to  him  was  in  the  person  of  General  R.  D. 
Mussey,  his  private  secretary,  at  whose  feet  she  threw 
herself  begging  for  mercy.  General  Mussey  said  he  had 
never  lived  through  moments  of  such  distress;  but  he, 
too,  had  received  orders  to  keep  out  the  supplicant  at  all 
costs.2 

An  attempt  to  stay  the  execution  through  a  writ  of 

1  Told  the  present  writer  by  Major  A.  E.  H.  Johnson,  private  secretary  to  Edwin  M. 
Stanton,  and  the  man  to  whose  enormous  industry  we  are  principally  indebted  for  the 
compilation  of  the  Official  Records. 

2  General  Mussey  was  so  anxious  to  help,  that  he  ordered  his  horse  and  light  buggy 
brought  into  the  White  House  portico,  where  it  stood,  waiting  the  President's  possible 
relenting,  until  after  the  tolling  bells  assured  the  general  that  there  would  be  no  eleventh 
hour  reprieve  for  him  to  carry  in  mad  haste  to  the  doomed  woman.     Told  the  present 
writer  by  General  Mussey's  widow,  Mrs.  Ellen  Spencer  Mussey.  See  Appendix  XXXIII: 
Note  on  "The  Nest  that  Hatched  the  Egg." 


Michael  O'Laughlin 


Edward  Sp  angler 


Sam  Arnold  Dr.  Samuel  A.  Mudd 

THE  FOUR  CONSPIRATORS  WHO  WERE  NOT  HANGED 

Arnold  and  O'Laughlin  received  life  sentences  and  Spangler  was  sen 
tenced  for  six  years.  Dr.  Mudd  was  also  sentenced  for  life  but  was 
pardoned  by  President  Johnson  on  February  13,  1869. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  193 

habeas  corpus  failed  through  suspension  by  the  President 
—  in  whom  this  power  is  vested  —  an  order  to  that  effect 
proceeding  from  the  Executive  Office  at  ten  o'clock  on 
Friday  morning.1  It  was  confidently  believed,  almost 
up  to  the  hour  of  execution,  that  some  influence  would 
avail  to  save  Mrs.  Surratt,  and  the  tension  at  the  peniten 
tiary  was  horrible. 

Since  a  little  after  eight  o'clock  soldiers,  spectators, 
newspaper  men,  clergy,  had  been  assembling  at  the  prison 
to  wait  in  the  blistering  heat  —  and  wait  —  and  wait. 
Soldiers  stood,  almost  shoulder  to  shoulder,  along  the 
high  wall  surrounding  the  prison  yard.  Down  below, 
in  the  grassy  enclosure,  were  many  more  soldiers  forming 
three  sides  of  a  large  square,  the  fourth  side  of  which  was 
the  penitentiary's  front.  Within  the  square  the  gallows 
stood,  its  platform,  reached  by  fifteen  steps,  ten  feet  above 
the  ground;  the  beam,  from  which  four  nooses  dangled, 
ten  feet  above  that  again.  Down  at  the  gallows'  foot 
were  four  new  wooden  boxes  at  the  edges  of  four  freshly 
dug  graves. 

The  wait  was  long,  in  the  brazen  sun,  and  nearly 
every  one  but  the  soldiers  carried  an  umbrella.  At  last, 
when  it  was  not  far  from  two  o'clock,  the  barred  door 
of  the  penitentiary  opened  and  a  woman  walked  out,  a 

»  See  Appendix  XXXIV.:   Denial  of  habeas  corpus  for  Mrs.  Surratf. 


194  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

middle-aged  woman  dressed  in  black,  bonneted  and 
heavily  veiled.  On  either  side  of  her  walked  a  bare 
headed  priest,  behind  her  walked  four  soldiers  with 
muskets.  In  the  strained  silence  the  low  tones  of  the 
priests  muttering  the  service  for  the  dying  were  audible 
to  every  ear.  Then  came  a  sound  of  clanking  chains; 
a  small,  shambling  German  dragged  his  fetters  toward 
the  gallows.  Two  officers  walked  before  him,  a  Lutheran 
clergyman  walked  beside  him,  a  squad  of  armed  soldiers 
brought  up  the  rear.  Next  came  a  tottering  boy,  with 
an  Episcopalian  rector  accompanying  him.  And  last 
walked  in  the  wasted  shadow  of  a  splendid  young  giant, 
with  a  shock  of  tawny  hair  and  big  blue  eyes  which 
made  one  spectator  say  he  looked  "  rather  the  bar 
barian  striding  in  his  conqueror's  triumph  than  the 
assassin  going  to  the  gallows." 

The  condemned  were  seated  on  the  gallows  while  the 
warrants  were  read  to  them  by  General  Hartranf  t.  When 
he  had  finished,  Dr.  Gillette  spoke  on  behalf  of  Payne, 
not  in  pleading  nor  extenuation,  but  merely  to  thank  the 
prison  officials  for  their  kind  treatment  of  him  —  which 
was  not  so  ironical  as  it  sounds,  because  the  boy  seems 
to  have  made  himself  liked,  and  his  attendants,  while 
they  were  powerless  to  mitigate  the  severity  of  his  irons, 
probably  did  whatever  they  could  to  show  him  kindness. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  195 

During  Dr.  Gillette's  prayer  the  boy's  big  blue  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  and  he  followed  in  the  closing  sentences 
of  it  with  deep  emotion  —  the  first  he  had  shown  since 
his  arrest.  Dr.  Olds  then  said  for  Davy  Herold  that  he 
tendered  his  forgiveness  to  all  who  had  wronged  him, 
and  asked  the  forgiveness  of  all  whom  he  had  wronged. 
He  also  thanked  the  officers  and  guards  for  kindnesses 
rendered  him,  and  said  that  he  hoped  he  died  in  charity 
with  all  men  and  at  peace  with  God.  Dr.  Butler  spoke 
and  prayed  for  Atzerodt,  and  there  was  no  more  to  be 
said;  Mrs.  Surratt's  confessors,  after  the  custom  of  their 
Church,  remaining  silent.1 

In  a  few  moments  the  awful  preparations  were  com 
pleted,  the  signal  was  given,  the  two  traps  fell,  and  four 
souls  went  home  to  a  Tribunal  which  may  safely  temper 
justice  with  mercy. 

Hardly  more  than  an  hour  after  the  appearance  of 
the  black-robed  woman  at  the  prison  door,  four  nameless 
graves  were  full  and  the  grassy  yard  was  quiet  again  under 
the  fiercely  beating  rays  of  the  summer  sun. 

Toward  the  end  of  that  year  there  was  laid  beside 
them  the  body  of  Wirz,  the  keeper  of  Andersonville,  who 
was  hanged  for  atrocities  of  which  he  is  now  believed 

1  George  Alfred  Townsend  in  New  York  World,  July  8,  1865;  also  in  his  book;  also 
in  Baker,  p.  508,  et  seq.;  Oldroyd,  p.  198,  et  seq.;  Croggon  in  Washington  Star,  July  7, 
1865. 


196  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

innocent.1  In  1867  the  five  bodies  were  taken  up  and 
removed  to  one  of  the  storehouses  in  the  Arsenal  grounds. 
The  body  of  Booth  was  laid  beside  them,  and  the  old 
penitentiary  where  it  had  for  two  years  had  sepulture 
was  torn  down. 

Just  before  Johnson  left  office,  in  February,  '69,  he 
yielded  to  the  importunities  of  the  Booth,  Surratt,  and 
Herold  families,  and  allowed  the  bodies  of  the  conspirators 
to  be  taken  away  for  interment.  Mrs.  Surratt  was  buried 
in  Mount  Olivet,  northeast  of  Washington,  where  her 
grave  is  marked  with  a  modest  headstone  bearing  only  the 
name  "Mrs.  Surratt."  Herold  was  buried  in  the  Con 
gressional  Cemetery,  and  Atzerodt  at  Glenwood.  Payne's 
body  was  taken  to  Holmead,  a  cemetery  which  was  in  after 
years  discontinued;  what  then  became  of  the  Florida  boy's 
remains  is  not  known. 

In  February,  when  the  President's  permission  was 
secured,  Mr.  Harvey,  a  Washington  undertaker,  drove 
out  to  the  Arsenal  grounds  one  afternoon  and  returned 
with  the  gun-box  containing  Booth's  remains. 

The  establishment  of  Harvey  and  Marr  was  on  F 
Street  near  Tenth;  and  after  dark  on  that  short  winter 
afternoon  the  little  company  waiting,  tensely,  in  the  back 

1  "A  true  sfory  of  Andersonville  Prison:  A  Defence  of  Major  Henry  Wirz,"  by  James 
Madison  Page,  Late  zd  Lieutenant  Company  A,  6th  Michigan  Cavalry;  published 
by  the  Neale  Publishing  Company,  New  York,  1908, 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  197 

shop,  heard  the  sound  of  hoofs  and  wheels  on  the  cobble- 
paved  alley;  some  one  said  " There  they  are!"  and  in  a 
moment  the  waggon  was  backed  into  the  stable.  John 
Booth's  body  had  come  back,  after  nearly  four  years,  to 
be  coffined  at  a  spot  not  a  stone's  throw  from  where  his 
flight  began. 

The  gun-box  was  set  on  trestles  in  the  stable,  and  a 
lantern  was  called  for;  this  was  the  light  by  which  the 
cover  was  pried  off  the  box,  the  gray  army  blanket  lifted, 
and  the  remains  disclosed.  The  head  was  severed  from 
the  trunk  —  as  it  naturally  would  be  by  the  removal,  at 
the  inquest,  of  the  two  spinal  spools  —  and  it  was  passed 
from  hand  to  hand  and  mused  upon.  Like  poor  Yorrick, 
that  long,  long  ago  actor,  John  Booth  was  also  "a  fellow 
of  infinite  jest."  In  the  next  room  sat  the  great  Hamlet, 
waiting. 

i  The  identification  being  satisfactory  —  aided  by  the 
dentist  who  had  filled  John  Booth's  teeth  —  the  body,  in 
a  handsome  new  casket,  was  sent  to  Baltimore  that  night, 
and  the  following  day  was  interred  in  the  family  lot  at 
Greenmount,  where  it  lies  beneath  thick  ivy  under  the  east 
face  of  the  monument  reared  to  the  elder  Junius  Brutus 
Booth  by  his  son  Edwin  in  1858. » 

1  James  Croggon  in  Washington  Star,  January  5,  1907;  also  from  facts  related  to  the 
present  writer  by  Mr.  H.  Clay  Ford,  Mr.  Charles  Ford  (John  T.  Ford's  son),  {he  Green- 
mount  Cemetery  authorities,  and  the  Booth  family. 


APPENDICES 


APPENDIX  I 

FEELING  AGAINST   LINCOLN 

IT  MUST  be  remembered  that  in  the  summer  and  fall 
of  1864,  Lincoln's  position  in  the  country  seemed,  even  to 
his  most  sanguine  friends,  more  precarious  than  it  had 
ever  been.  During  the  first  two  years  of  the  war,  when 
the  South  was  winning  almost  every  fight  and  her  armies 
seemed  invincible,  the  feeling  against  Lincoln  in  the 
Confederate  States  was  more  contemptuous  than  violent. 
They  thought  they  "had  him  licked."  But  after  Lee's 
proud  army  came  back  from  Gettysburg,  and  Grant's 
army  marched  into  Vicksburg,  and  Northern  prisons 
began  to  swell  with  tens  of  thousands  of  men  the  South 
needed  to  help  her  cause,  feeling  against  Lincoln  grew 
more  sullen,  vengeful.  In  the  North,  the  McClellanites 
were  bitter  against  him;  there  were  many  thousands 
of  people  who  hated  the  war  and  resented  with  all  their 
might  being  drafted  into  a  fight  for  which  they  had  no 
sympathy.  There  was  so  much  disaffection  for  Lincoln, 
and  his  policy  of  saving  the  Union  at  any  cost,  that  there 
was  talk  of  a  North- West  Confederacy  to  aid  the  Southern 

201 


202  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Confederacy.  Lincoln's  friends  did  not  think  he  would 
get  the  renomination,  but  he  did.  They  felt  sure  he 
could  not  get  re-election,  and  so  did  he.  On  the  eighth 
of  September,  Leonard  Swett  wrote  from  Washington  to 
his  wife:  "We  are  in  the  midst  of  conspiracies  equal  to 
the  French  Revolution."  Deep  down  under  all  the  con 
spiring  was  the  feeling  that  showed  itself  in  the  over 
whelming  returns  of  Election  Day,  when  the  North  stood 
by  Lincoln  in  a  marvellous  way.  But  buzzing  about 
everybody's  ears  was  the  sound  of  conspiracy  and  dis 
content,  and  nearly  every  heart  that  knew  bitterness 
blamed  Lincoln  as  its  cause. 


APPENDIX  II 

BOOTH  IN  CANADA 

EVEN  if  we  place  any  dependence  on  the  testimony  of 
the  men  who  later  confessed  themselves  or  were  proved 
perjurers,  the  evidence  regarding  Booth's  presence  in 
Canada  amounts  only  to  the  following:  Richard  Mont 
gomery  said  W.  C.  Cleary  told  him  that  "Booth  had  been 
there,  visiting  Thompson,  twice  in  the  winter;  he  thought 
the  last  time  was  in  December.  He  had  also  been  there 
in  the  summer."  (C.  T.  p.  25.)  Conover  said:  "Booth 
I  saw  but  once.  That  was  in  the  latter  part  of  October 
last."  (C.  T.  p.  28.)  Merritt  said  he  "saw  Booth  in 
Canada  two  or  three  times,"  but  did  not  undertake  to  say 
when.  (C.  T.  p.  36.)  John  Deveny  lived  in  Montreal 
from  July,  '63,  to  February,  '65.  He  said  he  saw  Booth 
"standing  in  the  St.  Lawrence  Hotel,  Montreal,  talking 
with  George  N.  Sanders.  I  believe  that  was  in  the  month 
of  October."  (C.  T.  p.  39.)  Hosea  B.  Carter  "  frequently 
observed  George  N.  Sanders  in  intimate  association  with 
Booth"  at  a  time  he  could  not  specify,  except  that  it  was 
between  September  10,  '64,  and  February  1,  '65.  (C.  T. 

203 


204  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

p.  38.)  William  E.  Wheeler  was  "at  Montreal,  Canada, 
in  October  or  November  last,  when  I  saw  John  Wilkes 
Booth."  (C.  T.  p.  39.)  Robert  Anson  Campbell  sold 
Booth  a  bill  of  exchange  in  Montreal  on  October  27th. 
(C.  T.  p.  46.) 


APPENDIX  III 

CONFEDERATE  COMPLICITY 

THE  controversy  about  Confederate  complicity  in  the 
murder  of  President  Lincoln  has  a  history  too  vast  to  be 
entered  into  in  less  than  a  bulky  volume.  At  the  time  of 
the  assassination  it  is  probable  that  a  majority  of  intensely 
loyal  Northerners  believed  the  Southern  leaders  guilty. 
To-day  only  an  inconsiderable  remnant  of  hotheads 
believes  anything  of  the  sort.  The  attitude  of  the  historian 
writing  to-day  is  well  expressed  by  Professor  Albert  Bush- 
nell  Hart,  head  of  the  department  of  history  at  Harvard. 
Answering  a  query  of  the  present  writer  as  to  what  con 
temporary  historical  scholarship  thinks  of  the  "evidence" 
that  Davis  and  his  associates  plotted  or  knew  of  the  murder 
of  Lincoln,  Professor  Hart  wrote :  "There  is  not  a  scintilla 
of  reliable  evidence  proving  Confederate  complicity  in 
Lincoln's  murder."  James  Ford  Rhodes  says:  "The 
belief  that  there  might  be  some  truth  in  the  charge  against 
Davis  was  given  up  finally  by  most  of  the  persons  who  at 
first  thought  it  entitled  to  consideration."  ("History  of 
the  United  States,"  vol.  v.,  p.  158.) 

205 


206  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

In  these  days,  when  we  know  how  most  of  the  "evidence" 
against  the  Confederate  leaders  presented  at  the  Conspir 
acy  Trial  was  obtained,  the  vindictive  bitterness  of  some 
Northern  men  is  interesting  as  an  example  of  the  lengths 
to  which  men  can  be  misled  by  their  frenzy. 

A  man  named  John  Smith  Dye  —  father  of  that  Sergeant 
Joseph  M.  Dye  whose  delirious  testimony  gave  the  Military 
Commission  of  the  Conspiracy  Trial  so  much  bootless 
bother  —  wrote  a  book  called  "A  History  of  the  Plots  and 
Crimes  of  the  Great  Conspiracy  to  Overthrow  Liberty  in 
America,"  in  which  he  attempts  to  prove  that  William 
Henry  Harrison  and  Zachary  Taylor  died  by  arsenical 
poisoning  administered  by  the  friends  of  slavery  (pp. 
36,  64),  and  that  on  February  23d,  1857,  Buchanan, 
on  the  eve  of  his  inauguration,  was  poisoned  at  the 
National  Hotel,  Washington,  by  arsenic  put  in  the  sugar 
he  used  for  his  tea.  This  was  in  punishment,  Dye  thought, 
for  Buchanan's  failure  to  please  the  Jefferson  Davis  faction 
in  his  Cabinet  appointments,  (p.  91.) 

Henry  Ward  Beecher,  in  the  New  York  Ledger  of  May 
20,  1865,  put  forward  substantially  the  same  ideas. 

John  A.  Logan  in  "The  Great  Conspiracy"-  — the  bit 
terest,  most  ungallant  of  all  the  books  written  by  generals 
of  both  armies  —  says:  "That  this  dark  and  wicked  and 
bloody  Rebellion,  waged  by  the  upholders  and  advocates 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  207 

of  Slavery,  Free  Trade,  and  Secession,  had  descended  so 
low  as  to  culminate  in  murder  —  deliberate,  cold-blooded, 
cowardly  murder  —  at  a  time  when  the  Southern  con 
spirators  would  apparently  be  least  benefitted  by  it,  was 
regarded  at  first  as  evidencing  their  mad  fatuity." 
("The  Great  Conspiracy,"  p.  647.) 

Nicolay  and  Hay  write  of  the  Conspiracy  Trial:  "The 
charges  against  them  [the  conspirators]  specified  that  they 
were  *  incited  and  encouraged*  to  treason  and  murder  by 
Jefferson  Davis  and  the  Confederate  emissaries  in 
Canada.  This  was  not  proved  on  the  trial."  ("Life  of 
Lincoln,"  vol.  x.,  p.  312.) 

General  T.  M.  Harris,  a  member  of  the  Military  Com 
mission  and  author  of  "The  Assassination  of  Lincoln," 
chose  to  believe  —  and  so  late  as  1892  to  sustain  —  the 
mass  of  testimony  against  the  Confederate  leaders  that 
"was  not  proved  on  trial."  General  Harris  says:  "It  is 
greatly  to  be  regretted  that  such  popular  and  usually 
reliable  authors  should  have  allowed  themselves  on  this 
occasion  to  write  thus  loosely,  and  express  opinions  and 
conclusions  so  much  at  variance  with  the  testimony." 
("The  Assassination  of  Lincoln,"  by  T.  M.  Harris, 
p.  180.) 

Now  for  this  testimony :  It  rested  chiefly  on  the  evidence 
of  one  Sanford  Conover,  one  Richard  Montgomery,  one 


208  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Dr.  James  B.  Merritt,  and  one  Henry  Finegas.  It  was 
Conover,  alias  James  Watson  Wallace  (tried  in  Washing 
ton  for  perjury  in  1867,  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  Albany 
penitentiary  for  ten  years),  who  found  Merritt,  Mont 
gomery,  Finegas,  and  the  rest  and  rehearsed  them  in  their 
perjuries.  (Minority  Report  of  House  Committee  on 
Assassination,  by  Rogers,  Report  No.  104,  39th  Congress, 
First  Session,  p.  39.)  Conover  swore  at  the  trial  that  late  in 
January  and  early  in  February,  ?65,  and  every  day  in 
February  after  an  early  date,  he  and  Jacob  Thompson 
talked,  at  St.  Lawrence  Hall  in  Montreal,  about  the 
assassination  of  Lincoln.  January  1st  to  February  14th, 
Thompson,  by  the  sworn  testimony  of  many  witnesses, 
was  in  Toronto.  And  as  late  as  March  20th  Conover 
was  trying  to  make  Thompson's  acquaintance.  Conover 
swore  that  about  April  6th,  he,  Surratt,  and  General  Carroll 
of  Tennessee,  discussed  the  assassination  of  Lincoln  in 
Jacob  Thompson's  room.  Two  citizens  of  Montreal  — 
General  Carroll's  physician  and  his  landlord  —  swore  that 
General  Carroll  was  confined  to  his  bed  with  a  very  pain 
ful  disease,  from  April  1st  to  April  15th.  Conover  swore 
that  other  associates  of  his  in  Montreal  were  Captain 
Magruder  and  Dr.  Fallen,  both  of  whom  swore  they  had 
never  known  such  a  person  existed. 

Montgomery  had  been  a  frequent  prisoner  in  the  Tombs, 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  209 

New  York,  and  had  been  convicted  of  robbery  in  the  New 
York  courts.  He  said  he  had  talked  with  Thompson  in 
Montreal  in  January,  '65  (when  Thompson  was  not  in 
Montreal),  and  that  Thompson  had  told  him  of  the  plot  to 
kill  Lincoln,  Stanton,  Grant,  and  others. 

James  B.  Merritt  swore  that  at  a  meeting  of  rebels  in 
Montreal,  about  the  middle  of  February,  he  heard  a  letter 
from  Jefferson  Davis  read  approving  the  assassination  of 
Lincoln.  He  said  that  at  this  meeting  were  Captain  Scott, 
Colonel  Steele,  and  George  Young,  all  of  whom,  through 
out  February,  were  at  Windsor,  opposite  Detroit,  600  miles 
from  Montreal;  and  Merritt  himself  was  not  once 
during  February  absent  from  the  village  of  Ayr,  Waterloo 
County,  Canada,  600  miles  from  Montreal.  He  also  said 
that  in  February,  '65,  he  had  conversation  with  Clement 
C.  Clay  in  Toronto,  at  which  Clay  spoke  of  Davis's  letter 
approving  the  assassination,  and  said  he  thought  "the  end 
would  justify  the  means."  Clement  C.  Clay  left  Canada 
in  November,  1864,  and  did  not  return.  ("A  Belle  of  the 
Fifties,"  by  Virginia  Clay-Clopton,  p.  237.)  At  Windsor, 
where  Merritt  lived  for  years,  he  was  known  as  a  dis 
reputable  citizen  and  common  liar  (eight  prominent 
citizens  swore  thereto,  and  in  its  issue  of  June  24,  1865, 
The  Toronto  Globe,  a  paper  conspicuously  faithful  to  the 
North,  gave  the  sworn  statements  of  three  justices  of  the 


210  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

peace  of  Waterloo  County,  brand  ing  Merritt  a  lying  quack). 
Yet  Merritt  got  from  the  War  Department  for  his  testimony 
$6,000.  (Rogers's  Report,  p.  39.) 

Henry  Finegas,  whose  testimony  implicated  Sanders 
and  Cleary,  was  a  gambler  and  prizefighter.  (Rogers's 
Report,  p.  37.) 


APPENDIX  IV 

THE    LEENEA    LETTERS 

ON  Wednesday,  the  sixteenth  of  November,  John 
Booth  went  to  New  York  where  he  remained  for  nearly 
a  month. 

On  Monday,  November  14th,  General  Butler  left 
New  York;  and  that  was  the  day  that  a  Mrs.  Mary 
Hudspeth,  riding  on  a  Third  Avenue  car  in  New  York 
City,  overheard  the  conversation  of  two  men  in  front  of 
her.  "They  were  talking  most  earnestly,"  she  testified. 
"One  of  them  said  he  would  leave  for  Washington  the 
day  after  to-morrow.  The  other  man  was  going  to 
Newburg,  or  Newbern,  that  night/'  The  one  who  was 
going  to  Washington  was  educated,  Mrs.  Hudspeth 
said,  and  had  beautiful  hands;  he  had  on  false  whiskers 
and  wore  a  pistol  in  his  belt.  The  other  was  called 
Johnson;  he  was  older  and  of  a  rougher  sort.  They 
exchanged  letters  while  in  the  car,  and  after  they  left 
Mrs.  Hudspeth's  daughter  picked  up  an  envelope  with 
two  enclosures.  One  of  them  began:  "Dear  Louis," 
and  went  on  to  say  that  the  time  had  come,  and  "Abe 

211 


212  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

must  die."  The  other  was  a  note  beginning:  "St. 
Louis,  Oct.  21,  1864.  Dearest  Husband."  It  was 
signed  "Leenea"  ;  the  letter  about  the  killing  of  the 
President  was  signed  "  Charles  Selby."  "Leenea"  had 
nothing  to  say  of  assassination;  all  she  wanted  was  her 
dearest  Louis  home  with  his  wife  and  baby. 

Mrs.  Hudspeth  took  these  letters  to  General  Scott, 
who  asked  her  to  read  them  to  him  and  then  directed 
her  to  take  them  to  General  Dix,  which  she  did.  General 
Dix  sent  them,  on  the  seventeenth  of  November,  to 
Assistant  Secretary  of  War,  Charles  A.  Dana,  saying 
that  "but  for  the  genuine  letter  from  St.  Louis  in  a  female 
hand"  he  "should  have  thought  the  whole  thing  got  up 
for  the  Sunday  Mercury" — which  it  not  improbably  was. 
Mr.  Dana  showed  the  letters  to  President  Lincoln,  who 
was  used  to  such  communications  and  "seemed  to  attach 
very  little  importance  to  them." 

Nevertheless,  much  was  made  of  the  Selby  and  Leenea 
letters  at  the  trial  of  the  conspirators,  Mrs.  Hudspeth 
even  swearing  that  a  photograph  of  Booth  was  a  likeness 
of  the  younger  man  she  had  seen  in  a  Third  Avenue  car 
seven  months  before.  To  make  the  identification  com 
plete,  she  spoke  of  the  scar  in  his  neck  —  not  so  remark 
able  a  feat  of  memory  when  we  remember  that  she  testi 
fied  on  May  12th,  when  the  papers  were  still  full  of  Booth's 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  213 

death,  his  official  recognition  by  means  of  the  scar  in 
his  neck,  and  other  details. 

Even  if  the  incident  of  the  Third  Avenue  car  was  on 
November  llth,  the  day  General  Butler  was  ordered  to 
leave  New  York,  instead  of  on  November  14th,  the  day 
he  actually  left,  we  know  that  Booth  was  not  there, 
because  that  was  the  only  week  end  "about  the  middle 
of  November"  when  he  could  have  been  in  Charles 
County,  Maryland,  as  attested  by  a  dozen  witnesses. 
But  the  Selby  letter  was  gravely  considered  against  him 
in  spite  of  all  the  strong  internal  evidence  of  his  having 
had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It  was  too  late,  then,  to 
visit  more  justice  upon  John  Booth,  but  if  the  contention 
of  the  prosecution  could  be  maintained  it  would  show 
that  what  the  conspirators  were  plotting,  as  early  as 
November,  '64,  was  not  capture,  but  assassination.  (C. 
T.,  pp.  40,  41.) 


APPENDIX  V 

DR.  MUDD'S  STATEMENT 

George  W.  Button,  Captain  Company  C,  10th  Veteran 
Reserve  Corps,  commanding  the  guard  that  took  Mudd, 
Spangler,  Arnold,  and  O'Laughlin  to  Fort  Jefferson,  Dry 
Tortugas,  swore  that  on  July  22d  Dr.  Mudd  "  con 
fessed  that  he  knew  Booth  when  he  came  to  his  house 
with  Herold  on  the  morning  after  the  assassination  of  the 
President;  that  he  had  known  Booth  for  some  time,  but 
was  afraid  to  tell  of  Booth's  having  been  at  his  house  on 
April  15th,  fearing  that  his  own  and  the  lives  of  his 
family  would  be  endangered  thereby.  He  also  confessed 
that  he  was  with  Booth  at  the  National  Hotel  on  the  even 
ing  referred  to  by  Weichmann  in  his  testimony,  that  he 
came  to  Washington  on  that  occasion  to  meet  Booth  by 
appointment,  as  the  latter  wished  to  be  introduced  to 
John  H.  Surratt;  that  when  he  and  Booth  were  going  to 
Mrs.  Surratt's  house  to  see  her  son  they  met,  on  Seventh 
Street,  Surratt,  who  was  introduced  to  Booth,  and  they 
had  a  conversation  of  a  private  nature."  (C.  T.  p.  421.) 
To  this,  Dr.  Mudd  replied  in  a  sworn  statement  dated  at 
Fort  Jefferson  August  28th: 

214 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  215 

1.  That  I  confessed   to  having  known   Booth  while 
in  my  house;   was  afraid  to  give  information  of  the  fact, 
fearing  to  endanger  my  life,  or  made  use  of  any  language 
in  that  connection  —  I  positively  and  emphatically  declare 
to  be  notoriously  false. 

2.  That  I  was  satisfied  and  willingly  acquiesced  in  the 
wisdom  and  decision  of  the  Military  Commission  who  tried 
me,  is  again  notoriously  erroneous  and  false.     On  the 
contrary  I  charged  it  (the  Commission)  with  irregularity 
injustice,  usurpation,  and  illegality.     I  confess  to  being 
animated  at  the  time,  but  have  no  recollection  of  having 
apologized. 

3.  I  did   confess   to  a  casual   or   accidental   meeting 
with  Booth  in  front  of  one  of  the  hotels  on  Pennsyl 
vania  Avenue,  Washington,   D.  C.,  on  December  23rd, 
1864,  and    not    on    January    15th,  1865,  as    testified    to 
by  Weichmann.     Booth,  on  that  occasion,  desired  me  to 
give  him  an  introduction  to  Surratt,  from  whom  he  said 
he  wished  to  obtain  a  knowledge  of  the  country  around 
Washington,  in  order  to  be  able  to  select  a  good  locality 
for  a  country  residence.     He  had  the  number,  street,  and 
name  of  John  Surratt  written  on  a  card,  saying  to  comply 
with  his  request  would  not  detain  me  over  five  minutes. 
(At  the  time  I  was  not  aware  that  Surratt  was  a  resident  to 
Washington.)    I  declined  at  first,  stating  I  was  with  a 
relative  and  friend  from  the  country  and  was  expecting 
some  friends  over  from  Baltimore,  who  intended  going 
down  with  me  to  spend  Christmas,  and  was  by  appoint 
ment  expected  to  be  at  the  Pennsylvania  House  by  a  certain 
hour  —  eight  o'clock.     WTe  started  down  one  street,  and 
then  up  another,  and  had  not  gone  far  when  we  met  Surratt 
and  Weichmann. 

Introductions  took  place,  and  we  turned  back  in  the 
direction  of  the  hotel.    Arriving  there,  Booth  insisted  on 


216  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

our  going  to  his  room  and  taking  something  to  drink 
with  him,  which  I  declined  for  reasons  above  mentioned; 
but  finding  that  Weichmann  and  Surratt  were  disposed 
to  accept,  I  yielded,  remarking  I  could  not  remain  many 
minutes.  After  arriving  in  the  room,  I  took  the  first 
opportunity  presented  to  apologize  to  Surratt  for  having 
introduced  to  him  Booth  —  a  man  I  knew  so  little  con 
cerning.  This  conversation  took  place  in  the  passage 
in  front  of  the  room  and  was  not  over  three  minutes  in 
duration.  Whilst  Surratt  and  myself  were  in  the  hall, 
Booth  and  Weichmann  were  sitting  on  the  sofa  in  a 
corner  of  the  room  looking  over  some  Congressional 
documents.  Surratt  and  myself  returned  and  resumed 
our  former  seats  (after  taking  drinks  ordered)  around  a 
centre  table,  which  stood  midway  the  room  and  distant 
seven  or  eight  feet  from  Booth  and  Weichmann.  Booth 
remarked  that  he  had  been  down  in  the  country  a  few 
days  before,  and  said  he  had  not  yet  recovered  from  the 
fatigue.  Afterward  he  said  he  had  been  down  in 
Charles  County,  and  had  made  me  an  offer  for  the 
purchase  of  my  land,  which  I  confirmed  by  an  affirma 
tive  answer;  and  he  further  remarked  that  on  his  way 
up  he  lost  his  way  and  rode  several  miles  off  the  track. 
When  he  said  this  he  left  his  seat  and  came  over  and 
took  a  seat  immediately  by  Surratt;  taking  from  his 
pocket  an  old  letter,  he  began  to  draw  lines,  in  order  to 
ascertain  from  Surratt  the  location  and  description  of 
the  roads.  I  was  a  mere  looker-on.  The  conversation 
that  took  place  could  be  distinctly  heard  to  any  part 
of  the  room  by  any  one  paying  attention.  There  was 
nothing  secret,  to  my  knowledge,  that  took  place,  with  the 
exception  of  the  conversation  of  Surratt  and  myself, 
which  I  have  before  mentioned.  I  had  no  secret  con 
versation  with  Booth,  nor  with  Booth  and  Surratt  together, 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  217 

as  testified  to  by  Weichmann.  I  never  volunteered  any 
statement  of  Booth  having  made  me  an  offer  for  the  pur 
chase  of  my  land,  but  made  an  affirmative  response  only 
to  what  Booth  said  in  that  connection. 

Booth's  visit  in  November,  1864,  to  Charles  County, 
was  for  the  purpose,  as  expressed  by  himself,  to  purchase 
land  and  horses;  he  was  inquisitive  concerning  the  politi 
cal  sentiments  of  the  people,  inquiring  about  the  contra 
band  trade  that  existed  between  the  North  and  South 
and  wished  to  be  informed  about  the  roads  bordering  on 
the  Potomac,  which  I  declined  doing.  He  spoke  of  his 
being  an  actor  and  having  two  other  brothers,  who  also 
were  actors.  He  spoke  of  Junius  Brutus  as  being  a  good 
Republican.  He  said  they  were  largely  engaged  in  the 
oil  business,  and  gave  me  a  lengthy  description  of  the 
theory  of  oil,  and  the  process  of  boring,  etc.  He  said  he 
had  a  younger  brother  in  California.  These  and  many 
minor  matters  spoken  of  caused  me  to  suspect  him  to 
be  a  Government  detective  and  to  advise  Surrat  regard 
ing  him. 

We  were  together  in  Booth's  room  about  fifteen  minutes 
after  which,  at  my  invitation,  they  walked  up  to  the 
Pennsylvania  House,  where  the  conversation  that  ensued 
between  Weichmann  and  myself,  as  testified  to  by  him, 
is,  in  the  main,  correct  —  only  that  he,  of  the  two, 
appeared  the  better  Southern  man,  and  undertook  to 
give  me  facts  from  his  office  to  substantiate  his  statements 
and  opinions.  This  was  but  a  short  time  after  the  defeat 
of  Hood  in  Tennessee.  The  papers  stated  that  over 
nine  thousand  prisoners  had  been  taken,  and  that  the 
whole  of  Hood's  army  was  demoralized  and  falling  back, 
and  there  was  every  prospect  of  his  whole  army  being 
either  captured  or  destroyed.  To  this  Weichmann 
replied  that  only  four  thousand  prisoners  had  been 


218  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

ordered  to  be  provided  for  by  the  Commissary-General 
[in  whose  office,  it  will  be  remembered,  Weichmann  was 
a  clerk]  and  that  he  was  far  from  believing  the  defeat  of 
Hood  so  disastrous.  I  spoke  with  sincerity,  and  said 
it  was  a  blow  from  which  the  South  would  never  be  able 
to  recover;  and  that  the  whole  South  then  laid  at  the 
mercy  of  Sherman.  Weichmann  seemed,  whilst  on  the 
stand,  to  be  disposed  to  give  what  he  believed  a  truthful 
statement.  I  am  in  hopes  the  above  will  refresh  his 
memory,  and  he  will  do  me  the  justice,  though  late,  to 
correct  his  erroneous  testimony. 

To  recapitulate  —  I  made  use  of  no  such  statement  as 
reported  by  the  "Washington  Correspondent  of  the 
New  York  Times,"  only  in  the  sense  and  meaning  as 
testified  to  by  Dr.  George  D.  Mudd,  and  as  either  misun 
derstood  or  misrepresented  by  Colonel  Wells  and  others 
before  the  Commission. 

I  never  saw  Mrs.  Surratt  in  my  life  to  my  knowledge 
previous  to  the  assassination,  and  then  only  through  her 
veil.  I  never  saw  Arnold,  O'Laughlin,  Atzerodt,  Payne, 
alias  Powell,  or  Spangler  —  or  ever  heard  their  names 
mentioned  previous  to  the  assassination  of  the  President. 
I  never  saw  or  heard  of  Booth  after  December  23rd, 
1864,  until  after  the  assassination,  and  then  he  was  in 
disguise.  I  did  not  know  Booth  whilst  in  my  house, 
nor  did  I  know  Herold,  neither  of  whom  made 
himself  known  to  me.  And  I  further  declare  they 
did  not  make  known  to  me  their  true  destination 
before  I  left  the  house.  They  inquired  the  way  to 
many  places,  and  desired  particularly  to  go  to  the 
Reverend  Wilmer's. 

I  gave  a  full  description  of  the  two  parties  (whom  I 
represented  as  suspicious)  to  Lieutenant  Lovett  and  three 
other  officers  on  the  Tuesday  after  the  assassination. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  219 

I  gave  a  description  of  one  horse  —  the  other  I  never 
took  any  notice  of,  and  do  not  know  to  this  day  the  color 
or  appearance.  Neither  Booth's  nor  Herold's  name  was 
mentioned  in  connection  with  the  assassination,  nor 
was  there  any  name  mentioned  in  connection  with  the 
assassination,  nor  was  there  any  photograph  exhibited 
of  any  one  implicated  in  the  infamous  deed.  I  was 
merely  called  upon  to  give  a  description  of  the  men  and 
horses  and  the  places  they  inquired.  The  evidence  of 
the  four  detectives  —  Lovett,  Gavacan,  Lloyd,  and 
Williams  —  conflicts  (unintentionally)  on  this  point;  they 
evidently  prove  and  disprove  the  fact,  as  they  have  done 
in  every  instance  affecting  my  interest,  or  upon  points 
in  which  my  welfare  was  at  issue.  Some  swore  that 
the  photograph  of  Booth  was  exhibited  on  Tuesday, 
which  was  false.  I  do  not  advert  to  the  false  testimony; 
it  is  evident  to  the  reader,  and  bears  the  impress  of  foul 
play  and  persecution  somewhere  —  it  may  be  owing  to 
the  thirst  for  the  enormous  reward  offered  by  the  Govern 
ment,  or  a  false  idea  for  notoriety.  Evans  and  Norton 
evidently  swore  falsely  and  perjured  themselves.  Daniel 
I.  Thomas  was  bought  by  the  detectives  —  likewise 
the  negroes  who  swore  against  me.  The  court  must 
certainly  have  seen  that  a  great  deal  of  the  testimony 
was  false  and  incompetent  —  upon  this  I  charge  them 
with  injustice,  etc. 

Reverend  Evans  and  Norton  —  I  never  saw  nor  heard 
their  names  in  my  life.  I  never  knew,  nor  have  I  any 
knowledge  whatsoever,  of  John  Surratt  ever  visiting 
Richmond.  I  had  not  seen  him  previous  to  the  twenty-third 
of  December,  1864,  for  more  than  nine  months.  He  was 
no  visitor  to  my  house. 

The  detectives,  Lovett,  Gavacan,  Lloyd,  and  Williams, 
having  failed  to  search  my  house  or  to  make  any  in- 


220  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

quiries  whether  the  parties  left  anything  behind  on  the 
Tuesday  after  the  assassination,  I  myself  did  not  think 
—  consequently  did  not  remind  them.  A  day  or  two 
after  their  leaving  the  boot  that  was  cut  from  the  in 
jured  man's  leg  by  myself  was  brought  to  our  attention, 
and  I  resolved  on  sending  it  to  the  military  authorities, 
but  it  escaped  my  memory,  and  I  was  not  reminded  of 
its  presence  until  the  Friday  after  the  assassination, 
when  Lieutenant  Lovett  and  the  above  parties,  with  a 
squad  of  cavalry,  came  again  and  asked  for  the  razor 
the  party  shaved  with.  I  was  then  reminded  imme 
diately  of  the  boot,  and  without  hesitation  I  told  them  of 
it  and  the  circumstances.  I  had  never  examined  the 
inside  of  the  boot  leg,  consequently  knew  nothing  about 
a  name  which  was  there  contained.  As  soon  as  I  handed 
the  boot  to  Lieutenant  Lovett,  they  examined  and  dis 
covered  the  name  "J.  Wilkes";  they  then  handed  me 
his  photograph,  and  asked  whether  it  bore  any  resem 
blance  to  the  party,  to  which  I  said  I  would  not  be  able  to 
recognize  that  as  the  man  (injured),  but  remarked  that 
there  was  a  resemblance  about  the  eyes  and  hair.  Herold's 
likeness  was  also  handed  me,  and  I  could  not  see  any 
resemblance,  but  I  had  described  the  horse  upon  which 
he  rode,  which,  one  of  the  detectives  said,  answered 
exactly  to  the  one  taken  from  one  of  the  stables  in  Wash 
ington. 

From  the  above  facts  and  circumstances  I  was  enabled 
to  form  a  judgment,  which  I  expressed  without  hesita 
tion,  and  I  said  that  I  was  convinced  that  the  injured 
man  was  Booth,  the  same  man  who  visited  my  house 
in  November,  1864,  and  purchased  a  horse  from  my 
neighbour,  George  Gardiner.  I  said  this  because  I  thought 
my  judgment  in  the  matter  was  necessary  to  secure 
pursuit  promptly  of  the  assassins. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  221 

In  May,  1901,  Samuel  Cox,  Jr.,  told  Mr.  Osborn  H. 
Oldroyd  that  in  1877,  when  Dr.  Mudd  and  he  were  the 
Democratic  candidates  for  the  legislature  from  Charles 
County,  Dr.  Mudd  often  talked  privately  to  him  about 
the  assassination,  and  said  that  he  knew  Booth  when 
he  dressed  the  broken  leg,  but  did  not  know  of  Booth's 
mad  deed.  Mr.  Cox  thought  Dr.  Mudd  had  been 
aware  of  the  abduction  plot,  but  he  was  sure  the  doctor 
had  no  part  in  the  assassination,  nor  anything  but 
abhorrence  for  it.  ("The  Assassination  of  Abraham 
Lincoln,"  by  Osborn  H.  Oldroyd,  pp.  268,  269.) 


APPENDIX  VI 

ROCKVILLE  LECTURE  OF  JOHN  H.  SURRATT 

LADIES  AND  GENTLEMEN:  Upon  entering  that  door  a 
few  moments  ago  the  impression  on  my  mind  was  so 
strong  as  to  vividly  recall  scenes  of  three  years  ago.  I 
am  not  unacquainted  with  court-room  audiences.  I 
have  stood  before  them  before;  true,  not  in  the  character 
of  a  lecturer,  but  as  a  prisoner  at  the  bar,  arraigned  for 
the  high  crime  of  murder.  In  contrasting  the  two  positions 
I  must  confess  I  felt  more  easy  as  the  prisoner  at  the  bar 
than  I  do  as  a  lecturer.  Then  I  felt  confident  of  success ; 
now  I  do  not.  Then  I  had  gentlemen  of  known  ability 
to  do  all  my  talking  for  me;  now,  unfortunately,  I  have 
to  do  it  for  myself  and  I  feel  illy  capable  of  performing 
the  task;  still  I  hope  you  will  all  judge  me  kindly.  I 
am  not  here  to  surprise  you  by  an  oratorical  effort  —  not 
at  all  —  but  only  to  tell  a  simple  tale.  I  feel  that  some 
explanation  —  perhaps,  indeed,  an  apology  —  is  due  you 
for  my  appearance  here  this  evening.  In  presenting 
this  lecture  before  the  public  I  do  it  in  no  spirit  of  self- 
justification.  In  the  trial  of  sixty-one  days  I  made  my 

222 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  223 

defence  to  the  world,  and  have  no  need  or  desire  to 
rehearse  it;  nor  do  I  appear  for  self-glorification.  On 
the  contrary,  I  dislike  notoriety,  and  leave  my  solitude 
and  obscurity  unwillingly.  Neither  is  it  an  itching  for 
fame.  I  stand  here  through  the  force  of  that  which  has 
obliged  many  other  men  to  do  things  quite  as  distasteful: 
pecuniary  necessity,  for  the  supply  of  which  no  more 
available  channel  presented  itself.  This  is  a  reason 
easily  appreciated.  So  you  will  take  it  kindly,  I  trust, 
as  the  ground  we  have  to  go  over  together  will  guarantee 
sufficient  interest  to  repay  your  kind  attention. 

In  this,  my  first  lecture,  I  will  speak  of  my  introduc 
tion  to  J.  Wilkes  Booth;  his  plan,  its  failure,  our  final 
separation ;  my  trip  from  Richmond  and  thence  to  Canada, 
then  by  orders  to  Elmira,  what  was  done  there;  the  first 
intimation  I  had  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  death;  my  return  to 
Canada  and  my  concealment  there;  and  my  final  depart 
ure  for  Europe. 

At  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  I  was  a  student  at  St. 
Charles  College  in  Maryland,  but  did  not  remain  long 
there  after  that  important  event.  I  left  in  July,  1861, 
and  returning  home,  commenced  to  take  an  active  part 
in  the  stirring  events  of  that  period.  I  was  not  more 
than  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  was  mostly  engaged  in 
sending  information  regarding  the  movements  of  the 


224  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

United  States  soldiers  stationed  in  Washington  and 
elsewhere,  and  carrying  dispatches  to  Confederate  boats 
on  the  Potomac.  We  had  a  regular  established  line  from 
Washington  to  the  Potomac,  and  being  the  only  un 
married  man  on  the  route,  I  had  most  of  the  hard  riding 
to  do.  I  devised  various  ways  to  carry  the  dispatches 
—  sometimes  in  the  heel  of  my  boots,  sometimes  between 
the  planks  of  the  buggy.  I  confess  that  never  in  my 
life  did  I  come  across  a  more  stupid  set  of  detectives 
than  those  generally  employed  by  the  United  States 
Government.  They  seemed  to  have  no  idea  whatever 
how  to  search  me. 

In  1864  my  family  left  Maryland  and  moved  to  Wash 
ington,  where  I  took  a  still  more  active  part  in  the  stirring 
events  of  that  period.  It  was  a  fascinating  life  to  me. 
It  seemed  as  if  I  could  not  do  too  much  or  run  too  great 
a  risk. 

In  the  fall  of  1864  I  was  introduced  to  John  Wilkes 
Booth,  who,  I  was  given  to  understand,  wished  to  know 
something  about  the  main  avenue  leading  from  Washing 
ton  to  the  Potomac.  We  met  several  times,  but  as  he 
seemed  to  be  very  reticent  with  regard  to  his  purposes, 
and  very  anxious  to  get  all  the  information  out  of  me  he 
could,  I  refused  to  tell  him  anything  at  all.  At  last  I 
said  to  him:  "It  is  useless  for  you,  Mr.  Booth,  to  seek 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  225 

any  information  from  me  at  all;  I  know  who  you  are  and 
what  are  your  intentions."  He  hesitated  some  time, 
but  finally  said  he  would  make  known  his  views  to  me 
provided  I  would  promise  secrecy.  I  replied:  "I  will 
do  nothing  of  the  kind;  you  know  well  I  am  a  Southern 
man.  If  you  cannot  trust  me,  we  will  separate."  He 
then  said:  "I  will  confide  my  plans  to  you;  but  before 
doing  so  I  will  make  known  to  you  the  motives  that 
actuate  me.  In  the  Northern  prisons  are  many  thousands 
of  our  men  whom  the  United  States  Government  refuses 
to  exchange.  You  know  as  well  as  I  the  efforts  that 
have  been  made  to  bring  about  the  desired  exchange. 
Aside  from  the  great  suffering  they  are  compelled  to 
undergo,  we  are  sadly  in  want  of  them  as  soldiers.  We 
cannot  spare  one  man,  whereas  the  United  States  Gov 
ernment  is  willing  to  let  their  own  soldiers  remain  in  our 
prisons  because  she  has  no  need  of  them.  I  have  a  propo 
sition  to  submit  to  you  which  I  think,  if  we  can  carry  out, 
would  bring  about  the  desired  exchange." 

There  was  a  long  and  ominous  silence  which  I  at 
last  was  compelled  to  break  by  asking:  "Well,  sir,  what  is 
your  proposition?"  He  sat  quiet  for  an  instant  and 
then,  before  answering  me,  arose  and  looked  under  the 
bed,  into  the  wardrobe,  in  the  doorway  and  the  passage 
way,  and  then  said:  "We  will  have  to  be  careful;  walls 


226  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

have  ears."  He  then  drew  his  chair  close  to  me  and  in 
a  whisper  said,  "It  is  to  kidnap  President  Lincoln,  and 
carry  him  off  to  Richmond." 

"Kidnap  President  Lincoln!"  I  said.  I  confess  that  I 
stood  aghast  at  the  proposition,  and  looked  upon  it  as  a 
foolhardy  undertaking.  To  think  of  successfully  seizing 
Mr.  Lincoln  in  the  capital  of  the  United  States,  sur 
rounded  by  thousands  of  his  soldiers,  and  carrying  him 
off  to  Richmond,  looked  to  me  like  a  foolish  idea.  I  told 
him  as  much.  He  went  on  to  tell  with  what  facility  he 
could  be  seized  in  and  about  Washington,  as,  for  example, 
in  his  various  rides  to  and  from  the  Soldiers'  Home,  his 
summer  residence.  He  entered  into  minute  details  of 
the  proposed  capture,  and  of  the  various  parts  to  be  per 
formed  by  the  actors  in  the  performance.  I  was  amazed 
—  thunderstruck  —  and,  in  fact,  I  might  also  say,  fright 
ened  at  the  unparalleled  audacity  of  his  scheme. 

After  two  days'  reflection  I  told  him  I  was  willing  to 
try  it.  I  believed  it  practical  at  that  time,  though  now  re 
gard  it  as  a  foolhardy  undertaking.  I  hope  you  will 
not  blame  me  for  going  thus  far.  I  honestly  thought 
an  exchange  of  prisoners  could  be  brought  about  could 
we  have  once  obtained  possession  of  Mr.  Lincoln's 
person.  I  now  reverse  the  case:  Where  is  there  a  young 
man  in  the  North,  with  one  spark  of  patriotism  in  his 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  227 

heart,  who  would  not  have  with  enthusiastic  ardour  joined 
in  any  undertaking  for  the  capture  of  Jefferson  Davis, 
and  brought  him  to  Washington  ?  There  is  not  one  who 
would  not  have  done  so!  So  I  was  led  on  by  a  desire  to 
assist  the  South  in  gaining  her  independence.  I  had  no 
hesitation  in  taking  part  in  anything  honourable  that 
might  tend  toward  the  accomplishment  of  that  object. 
Such  a  thing  as  the  assassination  of  Mr.  Lincoln  I  never 
heard  spoken  by  any  of  the  parties  —  never!  Upon  one 
occasion,  I  remember,  we  had  called  a  meeting  in  Wash 
ington  for  the  purpose  of  discussing  matters  in  general, 
as  we  had  understood  that  the  Government  had  received 
information  that  there  was  a  plot  of  some  kind  on  hand. 
They  had  even  commenced  to  build  a  stockade  on  the 
Navy  Yard  bridge,  gates  opening  toward  the  south,  as 
though  they  expected  danger  from  within,  and  not  from 
without.  At  this  meeting  I  explained  the  construction 
of  the  gates,  etc.,  and  that  the  best  thing  we  could  do 
would  be  to  throw  up  the  whole  project.  Every  one 
seemed  to  coincide  with  my  opinion  except  Booth,  who 
sat  silent  and  abstracted.  Arising  at  last,  and  bringing 
down  his  fist  upon  the  table,  he  said:  "Well,  gentlemen, 
if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  I  shall  know  what  to  do ! " 
Some  hard  words  and  even  threats  then  passed  between 
him  and  some  of  the  party.  Four  of  us  then  arose, 


228  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

one  saying:  "If  I  understand  you  to  intimate  anything 
more  than  the  capture  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  I,  for  one,  will 
bid  you  good-bye."  Every  one  expressed  the  same 
opinion.  We  all  arose  and  commenced  putting  our 
hats  on.  Booth,  perceiving  probably  that  he  had  gone 
too  far,  asked  pardon,  saying  that  he  "had  drank  too 
much  champagne."  After  some  difficulty  everything 
was  amicably  arranged,  and  we  separated  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning. 

Days,  weeks,  and  months  passed  by  without  an  oppor 
tunity  presenting  itself  for  us  to  attempt  the  capture. 
We  seldom  saw  one  another,  owing  to  the  many  rumours 
afloat  that  a  conspiracy  of  some  kind  was  being  con 
cocted  in  Washington.  We  had  all  arrangements  per 
fected  from  Washington  for  the  purpose.  Boats  were 
in  readiness  to  carry  us  across  the  river. 

One  day  we  received  information  that  the  President 
would  visit  the  Seventh  Street  Hospital  for  the  purpose 
of  being  present  at  an  entertainment  to  be  given  for  the 
benefit  of  the  wounded  soldiers.  The  report  only 
reached  us  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour  before  the 
time  appointed,  but  so  perfect  was  our  communication  that 
we  were  instantly  in  our  saddles  on  the  way  to  the  hospital. 
This  was  between  one  and  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

It  was  our  intention  to  seize  the  carriage,  which  was 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  229 

drawn  by  a  splendid  pair  of  horses,  and  to  have  one  of 
our  men  mount  the  box  and  drive  direct  for  southern 
Maryland  via  Benning's  Bridge.  We  felt  confident 
that  all  the  cavalry  in  the  city  could  never  overtake  us. 
We  were  all  mounted  on  swift  horses,  besides  having  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  country,  it  being  determined 
to  abandon  the  carriage  after  passing  the  city  limits. 
Upon  the  suddenness  of  the  blow  and  the  celerity  of  our 
movements  we  depended  for  success.  By  the  time  the 
alarm  could  have  been  given  and  horses  saddled  we  would 
have  been  on  our  way  through  southern  Maryland 
toward  the  Potomac  River. 

To  our  great  disappointment,  however,  the  President 
was  not  there,  but  one  of  the  Government  officials  —  Mr. 
Chase,  if  I  mistake  not.  We  did  not  disturb  him,  as  we 
wanted  a  bigger  chase  than  he  could  have  afforded  us. 
It  was  certainly  a  bitter  disappointment,  but  yet  I  think 
a  most  fortunate  one  for  us.  It  was  our  last  attempt. 
We  soon  after  this  became  convinced  that  we  could  not 
remain  much  longer  undiscovered,  and  that  we  must 
abandon  our  enterprise.  Accordingly  a  separation 
finally  took  place,  and  I  never  after  saw  any  of  the  party 
except  one,  and  that  was  when  I  was  on  my  way  from 
Richmond  to  Canada  on  business  of  quite  a  different 
nature  —  about  which  presently. 


230  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Such  is  the  story  of  our  abduction  plot  —  rash,  perhaps 
foolish,  but  honourable,  I  maintain,  in  its  means  and  ends; 
actuated  by  such  motives  as  would,  under  similar  cir 
cumstances,  be  a  sufficient  inducement  to  thousands  of 
Southern  young  men  to  have  embarked  in  a  similar 
enterprise. 

Shortly  after  our  abandonment  of  the  abduction  scheme, 
some  despatches  came  to  me  which  I  was  compelled  to  see 
through  to  Richmond.  They  were  foreign  ones,  and 
had  no  reference  whatever  to  this  affair.  I  accordingly 
left  home  for  Richmond,  and  arrived  there  safely  on  the 
Friday  evening  before  the  evacuation  of  that  city.  On  my 
arrival  I  went  to  the  Spotswood  Hotel,  where  I  was  told 
that  Mr.  Benjamin,  the  then  Secretary  of  War  of  the 
Confederate  States,  wanted  to  see  me.  I  accordingly 
sought  his  presence.  He  asked  me  if  I  would  carry  some 
despatches  to  Canada  for  him.  I  replied  "Yes."  That 
evening  he  gave  me  the  despatches  and  $200  in  gold  with 
which  to  pay  my  way  to  Canada.  That  was  the  only 
money  I  ever  received  from  the  Confederate  Government 
or  any  of  its  agents.  It  may  be  well  to  remark  here  that 
this  scheme  of  abduction  was  concocted  without  the 
knowledge  or  the  assistance  of  the  Confederate  Govern 
ment  in  any  shape  or  form.  Booth  and  I  often  consulted 
together  as  to  whether  it  would  not  be  well  to  acquaint  the 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  231 

authorities  in  Richmond  with  our  plan,  as  we  were  sadly 
in  want  of  money,  our  expenses  being  very  heavy.  In  fact, 
the  question  arose  among  us  as  to  whether,  after  getting 
Mr.  Lincoln,  if  we  succeeded  in  our  plan,  the  Confederate 
authorities  would  not  surrender  us  to  the  United 
States  again,  because  of  our  doing  this  thing  without  their 
knowledge  or  consent.  But  we  never  acquainted  them 
with  the  plan,  and  they  never  had  anything  in  the  wide 
world  to  do  with  it.  In  fact,  we  were  jealous  of  our  under 
taking  and  wanted  no  outside  help.  I  have  not  made 
this  statement  to  defend  the  officers  of  the  Confederate 
Government.  They  are  perfectly  able  to  defend  them 
selves.  What  I  have  done  myself  I  am  not  ashamed  to  let 
the  world  know.  I  left  Richmond  on  Saturday  morning 
before  the  evacuation  of  that  place,  and  reached  Washing 
ton  the  following  Monday  at  4  o'clock  p.  M.,  April  3,  1865. 
As  soon  as  I  reached  the  Maryland  shore  I  understood 
that  the  detectives  knew  of  my  trip  South  and  were  on  the 
lookout  for  me.  I  had  been  South  several  times  before  for 
the  Secret  Service,  but  had  never  been  caught.  At  that 
time  I  was  carrying  the  despatches  Mr.  Benjamin  gave  me 
in  a  book  entitled  "The  Life  of  John  Brown."  During 
my  trip,  and  while  reading  that  book  I  learned  to  my  utter 
amazement  that  John  Brown  was  a  martyr  sitting  at  the 
right  hand  of  God.  I  succeeded  in  reaching  Washington 


232  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

safely,  and  in  passing  up  Seventh  Street  met  one  of  our 
party,  who  inquired  what  had  become  of  Booth.  I  told 
him  where  I  had  been;  that  I  was  then  on  my  way  to 
Canada,  and  that  I  had  not  seen  or  heard  anything  of 
Booth  since  our  separation.  In  view  of  the  fact  that 
Richmond  had  fallen,  and  that  all  hopes  of  the  abduction 
of  the  President  had  been  given  up,  I  advised  him  to  go 
home  and  go  to  work.  That  was  the  last  time  I  saw  any 
of  the  party.  I  went  to  a  hotel  and  stopped  over  that 
night,  as  a  detective  had  been  to  my  house  inquiring  of 
the  servant  my  whereabouts.  In  the  early  train  next 
morning,  Tuesday,  April  4,  1865,  I  left  for  New  York, 
and  that  was  the  last  time  I  ever  saw  Washington  until 
brought  there  by  the  U.  S.  Government  a  captive  in  irons 
— all  reports  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 

The  United  States,  as  you  will  remember,  tried  to  prove 
my  presence  in  Washington  on  April  14th,  the  day 
on  which  Mr.  Lincoln  met  his  death.  Upon  arriving  in 
New  York,  I  called  at  Booth's  house,  and  was  told  by 
the  servant  that  he  had  left  that  morning  suddenly,  on  the 
ground  of  going  to  Boston  to  fulfil  an  engagement  at  the 
theatre.  In  the  evening  of  the  same  day  I  took  the  cars 
for  Montreal,  arriving  there  the  next  day.  I  put  up  at 
the  St.  Lawrence  Hotel,  registering  myself  as  "John 
Harrison,"  such  being  my  two  first  names.  Shortly  after- 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  233 

ward  I  saw  General  Edward  G.  Lee,  to  whom  the 
despatches  were  directed,  and  delivered  them  to  him. 
Those  despatches  we  tried  to  introduce  as  evidence  on  my 
trial,  but  his  Honour  Judge  Fisher,  ruled  them  out,  despite 
the  fact  that  the  Government  had  tried  to  prove  that  they 
had  relation  to  the  conspiracy  to  kill  Mr.  Lincoln.  They 
were  only  accounts  of  some  money  transactions  —  nothing 
more  or  less. 

A  week  or  so  after  my  arrival  there,  General  Lee  came 
to  my  room,  and  told  me  he  had  a  plan  on  foot  to  release 
the  Confederate  prisoners  then  in  Elmira,  N.  Y.  He 
said  he  had  sent  many  parties  there,  but  they  always  got 
frightened  and  only  half  executed  their  orders.  He 
asked  me  if  I  would  go  there  and  take  a  sketch  of  the 
prison,  find  out  the  number  of  prisoners,  also  minor  de 
tails  in  regard  to  the  number  of  soldiers  on  guard,  cannon, 
small  arms,  etc.  I  readily  accepted  these  new  labours, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  I  could  not  return  to  Washington 
for  fear  of  the  detectives.  The  news  of  the  evacuation 
of  Richmond  did  not  seem  to  disturb  the  general  much 
in  his  plan,  as  he  doubtless  thought  then  that  the  Con 
federacy  wanted  men  more  than  ever,  no  one  dreaming 
that  it  was  virtually  at  an  end.  I  was  much  amused  at 
one  expression  made  use  of  by  an  ex-reb  with  regard 
to  the  suddenness  of  its  demise:  "D — n  the  thing,  it 


234  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

did  n't  even  flicker,  but  went  right  out!"  In  accordance 
with  General  Lee's  order,  I  went  to  Elmira,  arriving 
there  on  Wednesday,  two  days  before  Mr.  Lincoln's 
death,  and  registered  at  the  Brainard  House,  as  usual, 
as  "John  Harrison."  The  following  day  I  went  to  work, 
and  made  a  complete  sketch  of  the  prison  and  surround 
ings.  About  ten  o'clock  on  Friday  night  I  retired,  little 
thinking  that  on  that  night  a  blow  would  be  struck 
which  would  forever  blast  my  hopes,  and  make  me  a 
wanderer  in  a  foreign  land.  I  slept  the  night  through, 
and  came  down  the  next  morning  little  dreaming  of  the 
storm  then  brewing  around  my  head.  When  I  took  my 
seat  at  the  table  about  nine  o'clock  A.  M.,  a  gentleman 
to  my  left  remarked:  ''Have  you  heard  the  news?" 
"No,  I've  not,"  I  replied.  "What  is  it?"  "Why, 
President  Lincoln  and  Secretary  Seward  have  been 
assassinated." 

I  really  put  so  little  faith  in  what  the  man  said  that  I 
made  a  remark  that  it  was  too  early  in  the  morning  to 
get  off  such  jokes  as  that.  "  It 's  so,"  he  said,  at  the  same 
time  drawing  out  a  paper  and  showing  it  to  me.  Sure 
enough,  there  I  saw  an  account  of  what  he  told  me,  but 
as  no  names  were  mentioned  it  never  occurred  to  me  for 
an  instant  that  it  could  have  been  Booth  or  any  of  the 
party,  for  the  simple  reason  that  I  never  had  heard  any- 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  235 

thing  regarding  assassination  spoken  of  during  my 
intercourse  with  them. 

I  had  good  reason  to  believe  that  there  was  another 
conspiracy  afloat  in  Washington.  In  fact  we  all  knew  it. 
One  evening  as  I  was  partially  lying  down  in  the  reading- 
room  of  the  Metropolitan  Hotel,  two  or  three  gentlemen 
came  in  and  looked  around  as  if  to  make  sure  that  no  one 
was  around.  They  then  commenced  to  talk  about  what 
had  been  done,  the  best  means  for  the  expedition,  etc. 
It  being  about  dusk,  and  no  gas  lit,  and  I  partially  con 
cealed  behind  a  writing  desk,  I  was  an  unwilling  listener 
to  what  occurred.  I  told  Booth  of  this  afterward,  and 
he  said  he  had  heard  something  to  the  same  effect.  It 
only  made  us  all  the  more  eager  to  carry  out  our  plans 
at  an  early  day  for  fear  some  one  should  get  ahead  of 
us.  We  did  n't  know  what  they  were  after,  exactly,  but 
we  were  well  satisfied  that  their  object  was  very  much 
the  same  as  ours. 

Arising  from  the  table  I  thought  over  who  the  party 
could  be,  for  at  that  time  no  names  had  been  telegraphed. 
I  was  pretty  sure  it  was  none  of  the  old  party.  I  ap 
proached  the  telegraph  office  in  the  main  hall  of  the  hotel 
for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  if  J.  Wilkes  Booth  was 
in  New  York.  I  picked  up  a  blank  and  wrote  "John 
Wilkes  Booth,"  giving  the  number  of  the  house.  I  hesi- 


236  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

tated  a  moment,  and  then  tore  the  paper  up,  and  then 
wrote  one  "J.  W.  B.,"  with  directions,  which  I  was  led 
to  do  from  the  fact  that  during  our  whole  connection  we 
rarely  wrote  or  telegraphed  under  our  proper  names,  but 
always  in  such  a  manner  that  no  one  could  understand 
but  ourselves.  One  way  of  Booth's  was  to  send  letters 
to  me  under  cover  to  my  quondam  friend,  Louis  J. 
Weichmann.  Doubtless  you  all  know  who  Louis  J. 
Weichmann  is.  They  were  sent  to  him  because  he  knew 
of  the  plot  to  abduct  President  Lincoln.  I  proclaim  it 
here  and  before  the  world  that  Louis  J.  Weichmann  was 
a  party  to  the  plan  to  abduct  President  Lincoln.  He  had 
been  told  all  about  it,  and  was  constantly  importuning  me 
to  let  him  become  an  active  member.  I  refused,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  I  told  him  he  could  neither  ride  a 
horse  nor  shoot  a  pistol,  which  was  a  fact.  These  were 
two  necessary  accomplishments  for  us.  My  refusal 
nettled  him  some ;  so  he  went  off,  as  it  afterward  appeared 
by  his  testimony,  and  told  some  Government  clerk  that  he 
had  a  vague  idea  that  there  was  a  plan  of  some  kind 
on  hand  to  abduct  President  Lincoln.  This  he  says 
himself:  that  he  could  have  spotted  every  man  of  the 
party.  Why  did  n't  he  do  it  ?  Booth  sometimes  was 
rather  suspicious  of  him,  and  asked  if  I  thought  he  could 
be  trusted.  I  said,  "Certainly  he  can.  Weichmann  is 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  237 

a  Southern  man."  And  I  always  believed  it  until  I  had 
good  reason  to  believe  otherwise,  because  he  had  fur 
nished  information  for  the  Confederate  Government, 
besides  allowing  me  access  to  the  Government's  records 
after  office  hours.  I  have  very  little  to  say  of  Louis  J. 
Weichmann.  But  I  do  pronounce  him  a  base-born 
perjurer,  a  murderer  of  the  meanest  hue!  Give  me  a 
man  who  can  strike  his  victim  dead,  but  save  me  from 
a  man  who,  through  perjury,  will  cause  the  death  of  an 
innocent  person.  Double  murderer!  Hell  possesses  no 
worse  fiend  than  a  character  of  that  kind.  Away  with 
such  a  character!  I  leave  him  in  the  pit  of  infamy 
which  he  has  dug  for  himself,  a  prey  to  the  lights  of  his 
guilty  conscience. 

I  telegraphed  Booth  thus: 

"J.  W.  B.,  in  New  York: 

"If  you  are  in  New  York  telegraph  me. 

"JOHN  HARRISON,  Elmira,  N.  Y." 

The  operator, after  looking  over  it,said :  "  Is  it  J.  W.  B.  ?" 
to  which  I  replied  "Yes."  He  evidently  wanted  the  whole 
name,  and  had  scarcely  finished  telegraphing  when  a 
door  right  near  the  office,  and  opening  on  the  street,  was 
pushed  open,  and  I  heard  some  one  say:  "Yes,  there  are 
three  or  four  brothers  of  them,  Junius  Brutus,  Edwin, 


238  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

and  J.  Wilkes  Booth."     The  whole  truth  flashed  on  me 
in  an  instant,  and  I  said  to  myself:  "My  God!     What 
have  I  done?"     The  despatch  was  still  lying  before  me, 
and  I  reached  over  and  took  it  up  for  the  purpose  of 
destroying  it,  but  the  operator  stretched  forth  his  hand 
and  said:  "We  must  file  all  telegrams."    My  first  impulse 
was  to  tear  it  up,  but  I  pitched  it  back  and  walked  off. 
The  town  was  in  the  greatest  uproar,  flags  at  half-mast, 
bells  tolling,  etc.,  etc.     Still  I  did  not  think  that  I  was  in 
danger,  and  determined  to  go  immediately  to  Baltimore 
to  find  out  the  particulars  of  the  tragedy.     But  here  I 
wish  to  say  a  few  words  concerning  the  register  of  the 
Brainard  House.     When  my  counsel,  by  my  own  direc 
tion,  went  to  seek  that  register,  it  could  not  be  found. 
Our  inability  to  produce  it  on  the  trial  naturally  cast  a 
suspicion  over  our  alibi.     For  weeks,  months,  did  we 
seek  to  find  its  whereabouts,  but  to  no  purpose.     Every 
man  who  was  connected  with  the  hotel  was  hunted  up 
and  questioned.     Every  register  of  the  hotel  before  and 
after  the  one  which  ought  to  contain  my  name  was  to 
be  found,  but  the  most  important  one  of  all  was  gone. 
Now,  the  question  is,  what  became  of  that  register  ?  The 
United    States    Government,    by    one    of    its    witnesses, 
Doctor  McMillan,  knew  in  November,  1865,  that  I  was 
in  Elmira  at  the  time  of  the  assassination.     They  knew 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  239 

it,  and  they  naturally  traced  me  there  to  find  out  what  I 
was  doing.     That  some  of  the  Government  emissaries 
abstracted  that  register  I  firmly  believe,  or  perhaps  it  is 
stored  away  in  some  of  the  other  Government  vaults,  under 
charge  of  some  judge  high  in  position;  but  this  is  only  a 
surmise  of  mine.     But  the  circumstance  involves  a  mys 
tery  of  villainy  which  the  All-Seeing  God  will  yet  bring 
to  light.      The  dispatch  I  sent  to  Booth  from  Elmira  it 
was  also  impossible  to  find.     We  had  the  operator  at 
Washington  during  my  trial,  but  he  said  the  original  was 
gone,  though  he  had  a  copy  of  it.     In  telegraph  offices 
they   are   compelled   to   keep   all  despatches   filed.     Of 
course  we  could  not  offer  this  copy  in  evidence,  because 
the  original  alone  would  be  accepted,  and  that  had  been 
made  away  with.     So   sure   was   the   Government   that 
they  had  destroyed  all  evidence  of  my  sojourn  in  Elmira 
that,  in  getting  me  to  Washington  in  time  for  Mr.  Lin 
coln's  death,  they  brought  me  by  way  of  New  York  City; 
but  so  completely  were  they  foiled  in  this  that  in  their 
rebutting  testimony  they  saw  the  absolute  necessity  of 
having  me  go  by  way  of  Elmira,  and  they  changed  their 
tactics  accordingly.     That  was  enough  to  damn  my  case 
in  any  man's  mind.     This  is  a  strange  fact,  but  neverthe 
less  true,  that  the  Government,  having  in  its  possession 
this  hotel  register  as  well  as  my  despatch  to  Booth,  and 


240  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

knowing,  moreover,  by  one  of  its  witnesses,  that  I  was 
in  Elmira,  yet  tried  to  prove  that  I  was  in  Washington 
on  the  night  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  death,  "  giving  orders  and 
commanding  in  general/'  as  they  were  pleased  to  say. 
The  gentlemen  in  Elmira,  by  whom  I  proved  my  alibi, 
were  men  of  the  highest  standing  and  integrity  whose 
testimony  the  United  States  Government  could  not  and 
dare  not  attempt  to  impeach.  I  left  Elmira  with 
the  intention  of  going  to  Baltimore.  I  really  did  not 
comprehend  at  that  time  the  danger  I  was  in.  As  there 
was  no  train  going  south  that  evening,  I  concluded  to  go 
to  Canandaigua  and  from  there  to  Baltimore  by  way  of 
Elmira  and  New  York.  Upon  arriving  at  Canandaigua 
on  Saturday  evening  I  learned  to  my  utter  disappoint 
ment  that  no  train  left  until  the  Monday  following,  so 
I  took  a  room  at  the  Webster  House,  registering  myself 
as  "John  Harrison."  The  next  day  I  went  to  church, 
I  remember,  it  being  Easter  Sunday.  I  can  here  safely 
say  that  the  United  States  Government  had  not  the 
remotest  idea  that  I  stopped  anywhere  after  I  left  Elmira. 
They  thought,  when  I  left  there,  I  went  straight  through 
to  Canada.  It  was  a  very  fortunate  thing  for  me  that  I 
could  not  leave  Canandaigua.  Now,  mark,  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  if  you  please:  My  name  was  signed  midway 
of  the  hotel  register,  with  six  other  parties  before  and 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  241 

after.  There  was  no  doubt  as  to  the  genuineness  of 
signature,  because  the  very  experts  brought  by  the  United 
States  to  swear  to  my  signature  in  other  instances,  swore 
also  that  that  was  my  handwriting.  After  all  this,  the 
register  was  ruled  out  by  Judge  Fisher,  because  he  was 
well  aware  if  he  admitted  it  my  trial  was  at  an  end.  I 
could  not  be  in  two  places  at  once,  though  they  tried  to 
make  me  so.  Listen  to  his  reason  for  so  ruling!  "The 
prisoner  might  have  stepped  down  from  Canada  to 
Canandaigua  during  his  concealment  and  signed  his 
name  there  for  the  purpose  of  protecting  himself  in  the 
future."  It  was  a  likely  idea  that  the  proprietor  of  a 
hotel  would  leave  a  blank  line  in  the  register  for  my 
especial  benefit!  Need  I  say  that  the  ruling  was  a  most 
infamous  one,  and  ought  to  damn  the  judge  who  so 
ruled  as  a  villain  in  the  minds  of  every  honest  and 
upright  man.  Had  Judge  Fisher  been  one  of  the  lawyers 
for  the  prosecution,  he  could  not  have  worked  harder 
against  me  than  he  did.  But,  thanks  to  him,  he  did  me 
more  good  than  harm.  His  unprincipled  and  vindictive 
character  was  too  apparent  to  every  one  in  the  court 
room.  I  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  time  to  think  of 
the  great  shrewdness  and  foresight  he  accorded  me  by 
that  decision.  At  times,  really,  during  my  trial,  I  could 
scarce  recognize  any  vestige  of  my  former  self.  Some- 


242  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

times  I  would  ask  myself:  "Am  I  the  same  individual? 
Am  I  really  the  same  John  H.  Surratt?"  When  that 
register  was  produced  in  court,  the  Hon.  Judge  Pierre- 
pont,  the  leading  counsel  for  the  United  States,  became 
exceedingly  nervous,  especially  when  Mr.  Bradley  re 
fused  to  show  it  to  him,  and  he  tore  up  several  pieces  of 
paper  in  his  trembling  fingers. 

He  evidently  saw  what  a  pitiful  case  he  had,  and  how  he 
had  been  made  the  dupe  of  his  precious,  worthy  friend, 
Edwin  M.  Stanton.  At  the  time  of  my  trial  the  proprietor 
of  the  Webster  House  in  Canandaigua  could  not  find  the 
cash-register  of  the  hotel,  in  which  there  should  have  been 
an  entry  in  favour  of  "  John  Harrison"  for  so  much  cash. 
When  he  returned  to  Canandaigua,  my  trial  being  then 
ended,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Bradley,  and  sent  it  to  him.  It 
was  then  too  late.  My  trial  was  over.  If  we  had  had  that 
cash-book  at  the  time  of  my  trial  it  would  have  proved 
beyond  a  doubt  that  I  was  in  Canandaigua,  and  not  in 
Washington  city. 

On  Monday,  when  I  was  leaving  Canandaigua,  I  bought 
some  New  York  papers.  In  looking  over  them  my  eye 
lit  on  the  following  paragraph,  which  I  have  never  forgot, 
and  don't  think  I  ever  will.  It  runs  thus:  "The  Assassin 
of  Secretary  Seward  is  said  to  be  John  H.  Surratt,  a  notori 
ous  secessionist  of  southern  Maryland.  His  name,  with 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  243 

that  of  John  Wilkes  Booth,  will  forever  lead  the  infamous 
roll  of  assassins."  I  could  scarcely  believe  my  senses. 
I  gazed  upon  my  name,  the  letters  of  which  seemed  some 
times  to  grow  as  large  as  mountains  and  then  to  dwindle 
away  to  nothing.  So  much  for  my  former  connection  with 
him,  I  thought.  After  fully  realizing  the  state  of  the  case, 
I  concluded  to  change  my  course,  and  go  direct  to  Canada. 
I  leftCanandaigua  on  Monday  at  12  M.,  going  to  Albany, 
arriving  there  on  Tuesday  morning  in  time  for  breakfast. 
When  I  stepped  on  the  platform  at  the  depot  at  St.  Albans, 
I  noticed  that  one  of  the  detectives  scanned  every  one,  head 
and  foot,  myself  as  well  as  the  rest.  Before  leaving  Mon 
treal  for  Elmira  I  provided  myself  with  an  Oxford-cut 
jacket  and  round-top  hat  peculiar  to  Canada  at  that  time. 
I  knew  my  trip  to  Elmira  would  be  a  dangerous  one,  and 
I  wished  to  pass  myself  off  as  a  Canadian,  and  I  su  - 
ceeded  in  doing  so,  as  was  proved  by  my  witnesses  in 
Elmira.  I  believe  that  costume  guarded  me  safely 
through  St.  Albans.  I  went  in  with  others  and  moved 
around,  with  the  detectives  standing  there  most  of  the 
time  looking  at  us.  Of  course  I  was  obliged  to  talk  as 
loud  as  anybody  about  the  late  tragedy.  After  having 
a  hearty  meal  I  lighted  a  cigar  and  walked  up  town.  One 
of  the  detectives  approached  me,  stared  me  directly  in  the 
face,  and  I  looked  him  quietly  back.  In  a  few  moments 


244  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

I  was  speeding  on  my  way  to  Montreal,  where  I  arrived  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  going  again  to  the  St.Lawrence 
Hotel.  Soon  after  I  called  on  a  friend,  to  whom  I 
explained  my  former  connection  with  Booth,  and  told  him 
I  was  afraid  the  United  States  Government  would  suspect 
me  of  complicity  in  the  assassination.  He  advised  me  to 
make  myself  scarce. 

I  immediately  went  to  the  hotel,  got  my  things,  and 
repaired  to  the  room  of  a  friend.  When  my  friend's 
tea-time  came  I  would  not  go  to  the  table  with  him,  but 
remained  in  the  room.  The  ladies  wanted  to  know  why 
he  did  not  bring  his  friend  to  tea  with  him.  He  replied 
that  I  did  not  want  any.  One  of  the  ladies  replied:  "I 
expect  you  have  got  Booth  in  there."  "Perhaps  so," 
he  answered,  laughingly.  That  was  rather  close  guessing. 
At  nightfall  I  went  to  the  house  of  one  who  afterward 
proved  to  be  a  most  devoted  friend.  There  I  remained 
until  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  when  I  was  driven  out 
in  a  carriage  with  two  gentlemen,  strangers  to  me.  One 
day  I  walked  out  and  saw  Weichmann  on  the  lookout  for 
me.  He  had  little  idea  that  I  was  so  near.  One  night 
about  eleven  o'clock,  my  friend,  in  whose  house  I  was,  came 
to  me  and  said,  in  a  smiling  way:  "The  detectives  have 
offered  me  twenty  thousand  dollars  if  I  will  tell  them  where 
you  are."  "Very  well,"  said  I,  "give  me  one-half  and  let 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  245 

them  know."  They  suspected  this  gentleman  of  protect 
ing  me  and  they  had  really  made  him  the  offer.  One  day, 
about  twelve  o'clock,  I  was  told  that  they  were  going  to 
search  the  house,  and  that  I  must  leave  immediately,  which 
I  did.  They  searched  it  before  morning.  This  gentleman 
was  a  poor  man,  with  a  large  family,  and  yet  money  could 
not  buy  him.  I  remained  with  this  gentleman  until  I 
left  Montreal,  within  a  week  or  so  afterward.  The 
detectives  were  now  hunting  me  very  closely,  and  would 
have  doubtless  succeeded  in  capturing  me,  had  it  not  been 
for  a  blunder  on  the  part  of  my  friend  Weichmann.  He 
had,  it  appears,  started  the  detectives  on  the  wrong  track 
by  telling  them  that  I  had  left  the  house  of  Mr.  Porter- 
field  in  company  with  some  others  and  was  going  north  to 
Montreal.  Soon  that  section  was  swarming  with  detec 
tives.  I  was  not  with  the  party,  but  about  the  same  time 
T,  too,  left  Montreal  in  a  hack,  going  some  eight  or  more 
miles  down  the  St.Lawrence  River,  crossing  that  stream  in 
a  small  canoe.  I  was  attired  as  a  huntsman.  At  three 
o'clock  Wednesday  morning  we  arrived  at  our  destination 
a  small  town  lying  south  of  Montreal.  We  entered  the 
village  quietly,  hoping  that  no  one  would  see  us. 

It  has  been  asserted  over  and  over  again,  for  the  purpose 
of  damning  me  in  the  estimation  of  every  honest  man,  that 
I  deserted  her  who  gave  me  birth  in  the  darkest  hour  of 


246  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

her  need.  Truly  would  I  have  merited  the  execration  of 
every  man  had  such  been  the  case.  But  such  was  not  the 
case.  When  I  left  Montreal  there  was  no  cause  for 
uneasiness  on  my  part,  and  upon  my  arrival  in  the  country 
I  wrote  to  my  friends  to  keep  me  posted  in  regard  to  the 
approaching  trial  and  to  send  me  the  papers  regularly. 
I  received  letters  from  them  frequently,  in  all  of  which 
they  assured  me  there  was  no  cause  for  anxiety;  that  it 
was  only  a  matter  of  time,  and  it  would  all  be  well.  After 
a  while  the  papers  did  not  come  so  regularly,  but  those  that 
did  come  spoke  very  encouragingly.  Afterward  when 
they  came  sentences  were  mutilated  with  ink  and  pen. 
I  protested  against  such  action, and  for  some  time  I  received 
no  papers  at  all.  I  became  very  uneasy,  and  wrote  for 
publication  an  article  signed  by  myself,  which  I  sent  to 
Montreal  to  be  forwarded  for  publication  in  the  New  York 
World.  It  is  needless  to  say  it  never  went.  Things 
continued  in  this  way  for  some  time,  until  I  could  stand  the 
suspense  no  longer.  I  determined  to  send  a  messenger 
to  Washington  for  that  purpose,  and  secured  the  services 
of  an  intelligent,  educated  gentleman.  I  started  him  off 
immediately,  I  paying  all  the  expenses.  I  gave  him  a  letter 
to  a  friend  of  mine  in  Washington,  with  instructions  to  say 
to  him  to  put  himself  in  communication  with  the  counsel 
for  defence,  and  to  make  a  correct  report  to  me  as  to  how 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  247 

the  case  stood  —  if  there  was  any  danger,  and  also  to  com 
municate  with  me  if  my  presence  was  necessary,  and  inform 
me  without  delay,  with  an  urgent  request  that  he  would 
see  and  inquire  for  himself  how  matters  stood.  He  left 
me,  and  God  alone  knows  the  suspense  and  anxiety  of 
my  mind  during  the  days  of  his  absence.  I  imagined  and 
thought  all  kinds  of  things,  yet  I  was  powerless  to  act.  At 
last  he  returned,  and  so  bright  and  cheerful  was  his  counte 
nance  that  I  confess  one-half  of  my  fears  were  dispelled. 
He  represented  everything  as  progressing  well,  and  brought 
me  this  message  from  the  gentleman  in  Washington  to 
whom  I  had  sent  him: 

"Be  under  no  apprehension  as  to  any  serious  conse 
quences.  Remain  perfectly  quiet,  as  any  action  on  your 
part  would  only  tend  to  make  matters  worse.  If  you  can 
be  of  any  service  to  us  we  will  let  you  know;  but  keep 
quiet." 

These  were  the  instructions  I  received  from  my  friend 
in  Washington,  in  whom  I  felt  the  utmost  reliance,  and 
who,  I  thought,  would  never  deceive.  He  also  sent  me 
copies  of  the  National  Intelligencer,  containing  evidence 
for  the  defence.  I  certainly  felt  greatly  relieved,  though 
not  entirely  satisfied.  This  news  reached  me  some  time 
in  the  latter  part  of  June,  just  before  the  party  of  gentlemen 
of  whom  I  have  spoken  had  arrived.  They,  too,  assured 


248  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

me  there  was  no  cause  for  fear.  What  else  could  I  do  but 
accept  these  unwavering  assurances  ?  Even  had  I  thought 
otherwise,  I  could  not  have  taken  action  resulting  in  good. 

Just  on  the  eve  of  my  departure  to  join  a  party  of  gentle 
men  on  a  hunting  excursion,  while  I  was  waiting  at  the 
hotel  for  the  train,  the  proprietor  handed  me  a  paper 
and  said:  "Read  that  about  the  conspirators." 

Little  did  the  man  know  who  I  was,  or  how  closely  that 
paragraph  bore  upon  me  or  mine.  That  paper  informed 
me  that  on  a  day  which  was  then  present,  and  at  an  hour 
which  then  had  come  and  gone,  the  most  hellish  of  deeds 
was  to  be  enacted.  It  had  been  determined  upon  and 
carried  out,  even  before  I  had  intimation  that  there  was 
any  danger.  It  would  be  foolish  for  me  to  attempt  to 
describe  my  feelings.  After  gazing  at  the  paper  for  some 
time  I  dropped  it  on  the  floor,  turning  on  my  heel,  and 
went  directly  to  the  house  where  I  had  been  stopping 
before.  When  I  entered  the  room  I  found  my  friend 
sitting  there.  As  soon  as  he  saw  me  he  turned  deadly 
pale,  but  never  uttered  a  word.  I  said:  "You  doubtless 
thought  you  were  acting  a  friend  —  the  part  of  a  friend  - 
toward  me,  but  you  have  deceived  me.  I  forgive  you, 
but  I  can  never  forget  it." 

"We  all  thought  it  for  the  best,"  he  commenced  to  say, 
but  I  did  not  stay  to  hear  more.  I  went  to  my  room, 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  249 

remained  there  until  dark,  and  then  signified  my  intention 
to  leave  the  place  immediately.  I  felt  reckless  as  to  what 
should  become  of  me. 

After  visiting  Quebec  and  other  places,  with  a  reward  of 
$25,000  hanging  over  my  head,  I  did  not  think  it  safe  to 
remain  there,  and  so  I  concluded  to  seek  an  asylum  in 
foreign  lands.  I  had  nothing  now  to  bind  me  to  this 
country  save  an  only  sister,  and  I  knew  she  would  never 
want  for  kind  friends  or  a  good  home.  For  myself,  it 
mattered  little  where  I  went,  so  I  could  roam  once  more  a 
free  man.  I  then  went  on  a  venture,  and  now,  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  I  go  forth  again  on  a  venture.  Gladly  would 
I  have  remained  hidden  among  the  multitude,  but  the 
stern  necessities  arising  from  the  blasting  of  my  earthly 
prospects  forced  me  to  leave  my  solitude  and  to  stand  again 
before  the  public  gaze  as  the  historian  of  my  own  life. 
One  mitigation  to  this  distastefulness  in  this  my  first 
attempt,  however,  is  the  kindness  with  which  I  have  been 
received  and  the  patience  with  which  I  have  been  listened 
to,  for  which  I  return  you,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  my 
sincere  and  heartfelt  thanks. 


APPENDIX  VII 

THE   POSSIBILITY   OF   CAPTURE 

MR.  ROBERT  W.  McBRiDE,  now  of  Indianapolis,  was 
a  Corporal  of  the" Union  Light  Guard,"  or  "Seventh 
Independent  Squadron  of  Ohio  Cavalry,"  108  men  strong, 
which  served  as  Lincoln's  cavalry  escort  and  guard  from 
December,  1863,  until  his  death.  A  company  of  Pennsyl 
vania  infantry  shared  the  duty  of  guarding  the  White 
House;  it  was  camped  in  the  grounds  just  south  of  the 
White  House,  and  two  of  its  men  were  always  on  duty 
at  the  front  door  of  the  mansion.  The  cavalry  were 
quartered  in  what  is  now  known  as  the  White  Lot,  but 
which  was  then  known  as  the  Treasury  Park.  "In 
those  days/'  says  Mr.  McBride,  in  an  address  delivered 
before  the  Century  Club  of  Indianapolis,  and  published 
in  a  pamphlet,  October,  1908,  "the  White  House  grounds 
proper  only  extended  south  to  a  line  running  east  and 
west  from  the  south  end  of  the  Treasury  Building  to 
Seventeenth  Street.  They  were  bounded  on  the  south 
by  a  stone  wall  three  or  four  feet  in  height,  the  top  of 
the  wall  being  on  a  level  with  the  White  House  grounds. 

850 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  251 

South  of  that,  and  extending  to  the  old  canal,  which  ran 
immediately  north  of  the  then  unfinished  Washington 
Monument,  was  the  Treasury  Park,  a  great  common  with 
a  few  small  scattering  trees  and  a  half-mile  race  track. 
The  barracks  were  south  of  the  Treasury  Department 
on  the  west  side  of  Fifteenth  Street,  facing  D  and  E 
Streets.  Their  horses  were  stabled  on  the  grounds  now 
occupied  by  Albaugh's  Opera  House,  and  were  picketed 
and  groomed  on  Fifteenth  Street. 

"To  those  familiar  with  the  city  of  Washington  during 
the  Civil  War,"  says  Mr.  McBride,  "it  was  not  surprising 
that  Lincoln  was  assassinated.  The  surprising  thing 
was  that  it  was  so  long  delayed.  The  city  was  filled 
with  Southern  sympathizers,  and  could  easily  be  entered 
by  men  coming  from  beyond  the  rebel  lines.  The  feeling 
against  Mr.  Lincoln  as  the  chosen  leader  of  those  battling 
for  the  maintenance  of  the  Union  was  of  course  intensely 
bitter.  Even  in  the  North  he  was  constantly  abused  and 
vilified,  characterized  as  a  tyrant  and  monster,  while 
articles  appeared  daily  in  many  of  the  newspapers,  the 
tendency  of  which  was  to  incite  to  his  murder."  Even 
with  the  cavalry  and  infantry  guard,  "  the  inadequacy  of 
the  measures  taken  for  Mr.  Lincoln's  protection  will," 
says  Mr.  McBride,  "be  understood  in  a  measure  when 
I  describe  how  I  first  saw  him. 


252  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

"It  was  after  midnight  of  a  January  night  in  1864. 
The  approaches  to  the  White  House  and  the  great  portico 
on  its  front  were  lighted  by  flickering  gas  jets.  The  two 
great  iron  gates  which  guarded  the  driveways  from 
Pennsylvania  Avenue  were  open,  but  on  each  side  of 
each  gate  was  a  mounted  cavalryman.  The  detail  from 
the  Union  Light  Guard,  dismounted  and  lounging 
against  the  stone  supports  of  the  portico,  was  the  cavalry 
corporal  of  the  guard,  his  horse  being  picketed  in  the 
rear  of  the  house.  (On  that  particular  night  I  happened 
to  be  the  corporal  of  the  guard.) 

"The  two  infantrymen  were  pacing  their  beats.  From 
the  end  of  the  beat  of  the  sentinel  on  the  east  side,  a  walk 
ran  to  the  Treasury  Department,  and  just  north  of  this 
path  stood  the  White  House  stables,  inside  a  square- 
trimmed  boxwood  hedge  probably  two  and  one-half  or 
three  feet  high.  From  the  end  of  the  beat  of  the  sentinel 
on  the  west,  a  path  paved  with  brick  ran  westward  to 
the  old  War  Department,  a  dingy-looking  old  brick  build 
ing  of  the  dry-goods-box  style  of  architecture,  occupying 
a  part  of  the  north  end  of  the  ground  now  covered  by  the 
magnificent  State,  War,  and  Navy  Building.  South 
of  it,  fronting  on  Seventeenth  Street,  and  separated  from 
the  War  Department  a  short  distance,  was  another  old- 
time  brick  structure,  resembling  it  in  architectural  ugliness, 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  253 

and  occupied  by  the  Navy  Department.  The  space 
between  the  White  House  and  War  Department  con 
tained  a  number  of  great  forest  trees,  making  a  beautiful 
little  park  in  daylight;  but  at  night,  lighted  only  by  the 
wavering  beams  of  a  solitary  gas-jet,  it  was  a  place  of 
shadows  and  gloom.  The  path  to  the  War  Department 
ran  along  the  south  end  of  this  little  park,  under  the 
shadow  of  the  trees.  Just  south  of  the  park  was  a  brick 
wall,  probably  five  or  six  feet  in  height,  easily  scaled, 
enclosing  what  was  then  called  the  WTiite  House  Gardens. 
Lights  shone  in  only  a  few  of  the  windows  of  the  White 
House. 

"The  front  door  opened,  and  a  tall,  rather  slender, 
angular  looking  man  came  out  alone.  He  wore  a  long, 
black,  frock  coat,  and  a  silk  hat  of  the  peculiar  narrow, 
high,  straight  style  then  in  vogue.  The  hat  had  apparently 
either  seen  its  best  days  or  had  been  badly  cared  for,  as 
it  had  lost  its  shine,  and  the  nap  was  standing  on  end 
in  many  patches.  The  long  coat  and  the  high  hat  made 
him  seem  taller  and  more  slender,  even,  than  he  really  was. 

"Closing  the  door,  he  clasped  his  hands  behind  his 
back,  and  with  head  bent  forward,  walked  slowly  toward 
the  front  of  the  portico.  .  .  .  The  President  came 
slowly  forward  until  he  reached  the  steps,  and  there  he 
stopped.  For  several  minutes  he  stood,  seemingly  in 


254  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

deep  thought,  and  apparently  giving  no  heed  to  his  sur 
roundings.  One  of  the  gas-lights  shone  full  upon  him. 
He  looked  careworn  and  weary.  .  .  He  came  down  the 
steps  and  without  appearing  to  notice,  gravely  lifted  his 
hat  in  recognition  of  the  salute  given,  and  turned  toward 
the  War  Department.  With  similar  gravity  he  acknowl 
edged  the  salute  of  the  infantryman  as  he  passed  him. 
While  the  infantryman  at  once  resumed  his  beat,  both  he 
and  the  cavalryman  anxiously  watched  the  tall  figure  as 
it  passed  into  the  shadows  of  the  great  trees,  and  I  know 
of  one  of  them  whose  anxiety  was  only  relieved  when  Mr. 
Lincoln  was  seen  to  enter  the  War  Department  building. 
In  about  half  an  hour  he  came  back,  still  alone.  This, 
while  the  first,  was  only  one  of  many  similar  occurrences; 
for,  as  I  then  learned,  it  was  his  frequent  and  almost 
nightly  practice  thus  to  visit  the  War  Department  before 
going  to  bed,  that  he  might  have  the  latest  news  from  the 
front.  It  was  also  his  daily  practice  to  make  an  early 
morning  visit  to  the  department.  I  never  saw  him 
attended  at  any  of  these  times.  He  always  went  and 
came  alone.  I  think,  however,  that  late  in  the  fall  of  1864 
a  member  of  the  police  force  in  plain  clothes  attended  him 
whenever  he  left  the  White  House. 

"From  the  description  I  have  given  of  the  surroundings 
it  can  be  seen  how  easy  it  would  have  been  for  an  assassin 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  255 

to  have  killed  him  while  he  was  on  one  of  these  solitary 
visits  to  the  War  Department,  and  how  little  actual  pro 
tection  was  given  him  by  the  guards  as  they  were  posted." 
Speaking  of  the  plot  to  seize  Mr.  Lincoln  in  the  park  some 
dark  night,  lift  him  over  the  brick  wall,  and  hurry  him 
across  the  Treasury  Park  to  the  Van  Ness  house, 
Mr.  McBride  gives  it  as  his  conviction  that  "the 
plan  was  practicable,  and  I  never  understood  why  it 
was  abandoned." 


APPENDIX  VIII 

JOHN  Y.   BEALL 

JOHN  Y.  BEALL,  who  was  detailed  to  assist  in  the  cap 
ture  of  Johnson's  Island  in  Sandusky  Bay,  and  the  release 
of  the  Confederate  prisoners  thereon,  in  the  fall  of  1864, 
and  who,  to  assist  the  enterprise,  seized  the  merchant 
steamer  Philo  Parsons,  plying  between  Detroit  and 
Sandusky  —  for  which  he  was  arrested,  tried  by  a  mili 
tary  commission,  and  hanged  on  Governor's  Island, 
February  24,  1865  —  was  said  to  be  a  cousin  of  John 
Wilkes  Booth.  Beall  was  a  fine  young  officer,  much 
like  Richmond  P.  Hobson  in  personality,  and  great 
efforts  were  made  to  save  his  life.  "President  Lincoln 
received  fervent  appeals,  but  beyond  suggesting  to 
General  Dix  a  reprieve  of  six  days,  he  did  nothing." 
(Rhodes,  vol.  v.,  p.  332.)  In  an  editorial  in  the  Chris 
tian  Observer,  Louisville,  Ky.,  for  October  13,  1904,  the 
statement  is  made  that  Lincoln  promised  Booth  Beall 
should  not  be  put'  to  death,  but  Seward  intervened.  (See 
Southern  Historical  Society  Papers,  vol.  xxxii.,  p.  99.) 


256 


APPENDIX  IX 
LINCOLN'S  LAST  JOURNEY 

ON  the  sail  up  from  City  Point,  April  9th  —  Palm  Sun. 
day  and  Lincoln's  last  Sunday  on  earth  —  the  President 
read  aloud,  as  he  was  fond  of  doing,  from  one  of  Shake 
speare's  tragedies.  His  selection  was  from  Macbeth, 
and  he  read  with  special  feeling  the  lines: 

Duncan  is  in  his  grave; 
After  life's  fitful  fever  he  sleeps  well. 
Treason  has  done  his  worst;  nor  steel,  nor  poison, 
Malice  domestic,  foreign   levy,  nothing, 
Can    touch    him    further. 

As  the  River   Queen  drew  near  to  Washington,  Mrs. 

Lincoln,  looking  at  the  capital,  said:    "The  hateful  city; 

it  is  full  of  our  enemies!"   To  which  Lincoln  replied,  not 

so  much  as  if  he  believed  it  but  as  if  he  wanted  to  believe 

it,  "That  is  not  so  — now." 

This  was  Lincoln's  last  journey,  unless  we  count  the 
journeying  of  his  body  during  the  many  days  of  his  funeral. 
For  an  account  of  his  burial  and  the  subsequent  history 
of  his  body,  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  following  books 

257 


258  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

by  Mr.  J.  C.  Power,  of  Springfield:  " Abraham  Lincoln, 
His  Life,  Public  Service,  Death  and  Great  Funeral 
Cortege,  With  a  History  and  Description  of  the  National 
Lincoln  Monument,"  privately  published  in  Springfield 
in  1872;  and  "An  Account  of  the  Attempt  to  Steal  the 
Body  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  late  President  of  the  United 
States,  including  a  History  of  the  Lincoln  Guard  of 
Honour,"  published  by  H.  W.  Rokker,  Springfield,  1890. 


APPENDIX  X 
LINCOLN'S  LAST  SPEECH 

ON  MONDAY,  April  10th,  a  crowd  gathered  in  front  of 
the  War  Department  and  gave  vent  to  its  feelings  of  joy 
at  the  news  from  Appomattox.  "Men  yelled,  shouted, 
screamed,  cheered,  laughed,  and  wept.  No  one  thought 
of  doing  business.  A  band  appeared  from  somewhere 
and  commenced  playing  patriotic  airs.  In  response  to 
calls,  Secretary  Stanton,  Vice-President  Johnson,  and 
others  made  speeches.  That  of  Andrew  Johnson  was 
bitter  and  vindictive.  One  expression  I  can  never  forget. 
It  was:  'And  what  shall  be  done  with  the  leaders  of  the 
rebel  host  ?  I  know  what  I  would  do  if  I  were  President. 
I  would  arrest  them  as  traitors,  I  would  try  them  as  traitors, 
and,  by  the  Eternal,  I  would  hang  them  as  traitors! '  His 
manner  and  his  language  impressed  me  the  more  because 
of  its  contrast  with  the  temperate  manner  and  language 
of  President  Lincoln. 

"Some  one  in  the  crowd  shouted :  'To  the  White  House! ' 
The  crowd  surged  in  that  direction,  and  began  calling 
for  the  President.  He  appeared  at  an  upper  window, 

259 


260  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

just  west  of  the  portico.  His  appearance  was  the  signal 
for  cheering  that  continued  for  many  minutes,  with  shouts 
of  'Speech!  Speech!'  He  raised  his  hand,  and  the 
crowd  stilled. 

"He  said:  'My  friends,  you  want  a  speech,  but  I  cannot 
make  one  at  this  time.  Undue  importance  might  be  given 
to  what  I  should  say.  I  must  take  time  to  think.  If  you 
will  come  here  to-morrow  evening  I  will  have  something 
to  say  to  you.  There  is  one  thing  I  will  do,  however. 
You  have  a  band  with  you.  There  is  one  piece  of  music 
I  have  always  liked.  Heretofore  it  has  not  seemed  the 
proper  thing  to  use  it  in  the  North;  but  now,  by  virtue 
of  my  prerogative  as  President  and  Commander-in-Chief 
of  the  Army  and  Navy,  I  declare  it  contraband  of  war  and 
our  lawful  prize.  I  ask  the  band  to  play  "Dixie."  '  Again 
the  crowd  went  wild,  and  for  probably  the  first  time  the 
tune  of  'Dixie'  wras  greeted  with  cheers  from  Union 
throats."  ("  Lincoln's  Body-Guard,"  by  Robert  W. 
McBride,  Indianapolis,  1908.) 

Tom  Pendel  remembers  attending  to  the  illuminating 
of  the  White  House  front  for  the  assemblage  of  Tuesday 
evening.  It  was  accomplished  by  candle  only,  and  the 
doorkeeper  remembers  putting  out  candles  nailed  to 
long  strips  of  wood,  and  going  the  rounds  to  light  them 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  261 

shortly  before  the  President  was  due  on  a  balcony  to 
make  his  promised  speech.  On  these  rounds,  Pendel 
recalls,  he  was  accompanied  by  the  indefatigable  little 
Tad.  ("  Thirty-six  Years  in  the  White  House,"  by  Tom 
Pendel;  Neale,  Washington,  1900,  p.  33.) 

On  that  evening,  after  dinner,  Lincoln  entered  the  Green 
Drawing-Room,  where  several  White  House  dinner 
guests  were  assembled,  and  laid  a  roll  of  manuscript  on 
the  table.  Those  present  looked  surprised.  "I  know 
what  you  are  thinking  about,"  said  the  President,  smiling. 
"You  think  it  is  mighty  queer  that  an  old  stump  speaker 
like  myself  should  not  be  able  to  address  a  crowd  like  this 
outside  without  a  written  speech.  But  you  must  remem 
ber  I  am,  in  a  certain  way,  talking  to  the  country  and  have 
to  be  mighty  careful.  Now,  the  last  time  I  made  an  off 
hand  speech,  in  answer  to  a  serenade,  I  used  the  phrase, 
as  applied  to  the  rebels,  '  turned  tail  and  ran/  Some 
very  nice  Boston  folks,  I  am  grieved  to  hear,  were  very 
much  outraged  by  that  phrase,  which  they  thought 
improper.  So  I  resolved  to  make  no  more  impromptu 
speeches."  Later,  says  Mr.  Noah  Brooks,  who  relates  this 
incident  in  his  "Lincoln  and  the  Downfall  of  Slavery," 
(Putnam's,  New  York,  1899,  p.  452,)  Mr.  Lincoln  admitted 
that  it  was  Charles  Sumner  who  was  shocked. 


APPENDIX  XI 


LINCOLN'S  forebodings  of  a  tragic  death  date  back  to 
the  fall  of  '60,  just  after  his  first  election  to  the  Presidency. 
He  himself  described  it  as  follows:  "The  news  had  been 
coming  in  thick  and  fast  all  day,  and  there  had  been  a 
great  * hurrah  boys!'  so  that  I  was  well  tired  out  and 
went  home  to  rest,  throwing  myself  upon  a  lounge  in  my 
chamber.  Opposite  to  where  I  lay  was  a  bureau  with  a 
swinging  glass  upon  it;  and  in  looking  in  that  glass  I 
saw  myself  reflected  nearly  at  full  length;  but  my  face,  I 
noticed,  had  two  separate  and  distinct  images,  the  tip 
of  the  nose  of  one  being  about  three  inches  from  the  tip  of 
the  other.  I  was  a  little  bothered,  perhaps  startled,  and 
got  up  and  looked  in  the  glass;  but  the  illusion  vanished. 
On  lying  down  again  I  saw  it  a  second  time,  plainer,  if 
possible,  than  before;  and  then  I  noticed  that  one  of  the 
faces  was  a  little  paler  —  say  five  shades  —  than  the  other. 
I  got  up,  and  the  thing  melted  away;  and  I  went  off,  and 
in  the  excitement  of  the  hour  forgot  all  about  it  —  nearly, 
but  not  quite,  for  the  thing  would  once  in  a  while  come  up, 

262 


THE  DEATH  OP  LINCOLN  263 

and  give  me  a  little  pang,  as  though  something  uncom 
fortable  had  happened.  When  I  went  home,  I  told  my 
wife  about  it;  and  a  few  days  after  tried  the  experiment 
again,  when,  sure  enough,  the  thing  came  back  again; 
but  I  never  succeeded  in  bringing  the  ghost  back  after 
that,  though  I  once  tried  very  industriously  to  show  it 
to  my  wife,  who  was  worried  about  it  somewhat.  She 
thought  it  was  '  a  sign'  that  I  was  to  be  elected  to  a  second 
term  of  office,  and  that  the  paleness  of  one  of  the  faces 
was  an  omen  that  I  should  not  see  life  through  the  last 
term.~  (  "  Life  of  Abraham  Lincoln  from  His  Birth  to  His 
Inauguration  as  President,"  by  Ward  Hill  Lamon,  pub 
lished  by  R.  Osgood&  Co.,  Boston,  1872,  pp.,  76,  477.) 
In  January,  1860,  when  Lincoln  was  facing  the  prospect 
of  trying  to  save  the  Union  after  the  Union  was  disrupted 
—  after  South  Carolina,  Mississippi,  Florida,  Alabama, 
Georgia,  and  Louisiana  had  passed  ordinances  of  seces 
sion  —  he  was  visited  by  his  dear  friend,  Judge  Gillespie, 
and  the  two  men  sat  in  the  little  frame  cottage  at  Spring 
field,  which  Lincoln  was  soon  to  leave  for  the  White 
House  and  its  weight  of  woe,  talking  far  into  the  night 
about  the  possibility  of  averting  war.  Lincoln  feared  it 
could  not  be  done  without  such  compromise  as  he  was 
sworn  not  to  make.  "I  see  the  duty  devolving  upon 
me,"  he  told  his  friend,  with  an  indescribable  sadness 


264  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Judge  Gillespie  never  forgot.  "I  have  read  upon  my 
knees  the  story  of  Gethsemane,  where  the  Son  of  God 
prayed  in  vain  that  the  cup  of  bitterness  might  pass  from 
him.  I  am  in  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane  now,  and  my 
cup  of  bitterness  is  full  and  overflowing." 

''I  told  him,"  said  Judge  Gillespie,  "that  as  Christ's 
prayer  was  not  answered,  and  his  crucifixion  had  redeemed 
the  world,  so  the  sacrifice  demanded  of  him  might  be  a 
great  beneficence.  Little  did  I  then  think  how  prophetic 
my  words  were  to  be,  what  a  great  sacrifice  he  was  to 
make."  ("Life  of  Lincoln,"  by  Ida  M.  Tarbell,  vol.  ii, 
p.  200.) 

Ward  Hill  Lamon,  Lincoln's  intimate  friend,  says 
("  Recollections  of  Abraham  Lincoln,"  by  Ward  Hill 
Lamon,  edited  by  Dorothy  Lamon,  A.  C.  McClurg  and 
Company,  Chicago,  1895,  pp.  115-16)  that  a  few  days 
before  Lincoln's  assassination  he  told  Lamon,  Mrs. 
Lincoln,  and  one  or  two  others  present,  of  a  dream  he 
had,  in  which  he  heard  "pitiful  sobbing."  In  his  dream, 
Lincoln  said,  he  went  from  room  to  room  of  the  White 
House  and  "no  living  person  was  in  sight,  but  the  same 
mournful  sounds  of  distress  met  me  as  I  passed  along 
.  .  .  .  until  I  arrived  at  the  East  Room,  which  I 
entered.  There  I  met  with  a  sickening  surprise.  Before 
me  was  a  catafalque,  on  which  rested  a  corpse  wrapped 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  265 

in  funeral  vestments.  Around  it  were  stationed  soldiers 
who  were  acting  as  guards,  and  there  was  a  throng  of 
people,  some  gazing  mournfully  upon  the  corpse,  whose 
face  was  covered,  others  weeping  pitifully.  'Who  is 
dead  in  the  White  House?'  I  demanded  of  one  of  the 
soldiers.  'The  President,'  was  his  answer;  'he  was 
killed  by  an  assassin!'  Then  came  a  loud  burst  of  grief 
from  the  crowd,  which  woke  me  from  my  dream.  I 
slept  no  more  that  night;  and  although  it  was  only  a 
dream,  I  have  been  strangely  annoyed  by  it  ever  since." 
Lamon  said  that  he  wrote  this  down  "immediately" 
after  hearing  Lincoln  tell  it.  And  if  it  sounds  too  incred 
ible,  we  have  to  remember  what  a  mystic  Lincoln  was, 
what  a  "dreamer  of  dreams."  Assassination  was  con 
stantly  on  his  mind,  not  only  because  he  himself  really 
believed  it  would  come  to  him,  but  because  precaution 
against  it  was  forever  being  dinned  into  his  ears  by  his 
advisers.  There  was  nothing  remarkable  in  his  dream 
ing  the  dream.  It  is  only  remarkable  that  it  happened 
to  come  true. 


APPENDIX  XII 

LINCOLN    AND    THE   NEGRO    MESSENGER 

CHAPLAIN  EDWARD  D.  NEILL  was  appointed,  early  in 
'64,  to  read  and  dispose  of  all  letters  addressed  to  Mr.  Lin 
coln,  and  was,  consequently,  often  in  close  relation  to  the 
President.  He  says  that  on  Friday  afternoon,  April  14, 
'65,  between  three  and  four  o'clock,  Vice-President  John 
son  was  at  the  White  House,  and  evidently  was  urging 
upon  Lincoln  some  vengeful  action  against  the  South, 
to  which  Lincoln  made  a  gentle  but  firm  refusal.  Johnson 
retorted  that  Lincoln  was  too  easy  on  the  rebels,  easier 
than  he  (Johnson)  would  be.  This  was  overheard  by 
Slade,  a  coloured  messenger  of  the  White  House,  who 
told  Johnson  he  wished  the  day  might  come  when  he 
could  be  President  and  punish  the  rebels  as  they  deserved. 
That  night,  when  he  heard  of  the  assassination  of  Lincoln, 
Slade  was  overcome  with  grief,  and  could  hardly  be  made 
to  believe  that  his  wish  was  in  no  way  responsible  for 
Johnson's  speedy  coming  to  the  Presidency.  ("Glimpses 
of  the  Nation's  Struggle,"  papers  read  before  the  Minne 
sota  Commandery  of  the  Loyal  Legion  and  published  by  the 
St.  Paul  Book  and  Stationery  Company,  1887,  pp.  29-55.) 

266 


APPENDIX  XIII 

DANA   AND  THOMPSON 

DURING  the  afternoon  of  Friday,  April  14th,  there 
came  to  Charles  A.  Dana  at  the  War  Office  a  telegram 
from  the  provost-marshal  of  Portland,  Me.,  saying: 
"I  have  positive  information  that  Jacob  Thompson  will 
pass  through  Portland  to-night,  in  order  to  take  a 
steamer  for  England.  What  are  your  orders  ?  "  (Thomp 
son,  of  Mississippi,  had  been  Buchanan's  Secretary  of 
the  Interior,  and  was  the  leader  of  the  "Canada  Cabinet" 
of  the  Confederacy.)  Dana  took  the  telegram  to  Stan  ton, 
who  promptly  said:  " Arrest  him."  Then:  "Go  over 
and  see  the  President."  Dana  found  no  one  in  the 
President's  office,  it  being  after  hours,  and  was  turning 
to  go  when  Mr.  Lincoln  called  to  him  from  a  little  side 
room  where  he  was  washing  his  hands.  Dana  told  the 
President  about  Thompson  and  asked  what  should  be 
done.  "When  you  have  got  an  elephant  by  the  hind 
leg,"  said  Lincoln,  "and  he  is  trying  to  run  away,  it  is 
best  to  let  him  run."  Dana  returned  to  the  War  Office 
and  repeated  to  Stanton  the  President's  judgment.  "Oh, 


268  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

stuff!"  said  Stanton.  Dana  was  at  the  Peterson  House 
that  night,  taking  orders  from  his  chief,  until  3  A.  M., 
when  Stanton  told  him:  "That's  enough  —  you  may  go 
home."  At  8  A.  M.  Colonel  Pelouze,  of  the  Adjutant- 
General's  office,  rapped  on  a  lower  window  of  Dana's 
house  and  said:  "The  President  is  dead,  and  Mr.  Stanton 
directs  you  to  arrest  Jacob  Thompson."  ("Recollections 
of  Charles  A.  Dana/'  pp.  274,  276.) 


APPENDIX  XIV 

MR.  GEORGE  ASHMUN 

MR.  GEORGE  ASHMUN,  of  Massachusetts,  was  an  old 
fellow-congressman  of  Lincoln's  on  the  Whig  side  of  the 
House.  On  Tuesday,  June  16,  1860,  the  day  the  Repub 
lican  National  Convention  met  in  Chicago,  Mr. 
Ashmun  was  elected  chairman  of  the  convention.  On 
Saturday,  the  second  day  after  Lincoln's  nomination, 
Mr.  Ashmun  went  down  to  Springfield  to  make  to  Mr. 
Lincoln  the  official  announcement  of  his  nomination. 
On  April  14th,  1861  —  Sunday  evening  —  Mr.  Ashmun 
called  upon  the  Hon.  Stephen  A.  Douglas  and  persuaded 
him  to  go  to  the  White  House  and  assure  Lincoln  that  the 
Democratic  party  was  one  with  the  Republican  party  in 
its  attitude  toward  Sumter's  fall,  the  news  of  which  had 
reached  Washington  late  that  day.  Mr.  Ashmun 's  last  call 
on  Lincoln  was  exactly  four  years  later  than  the  memo 
rable  visit  which  established  peace  between  Lincoln  and 
the  "Little  Giant."  The  "friend"  to  be  admitted  with 
Mr.  Ashmun  at  9  A.  M.  was  Judge  C.  P.  Daly,  of  New 
York.  ("Life  of  Stephen  A.  Douglas,"  by  Allen  Johnson, 
pp.  475, 478.  "  Life  of  Lincoln,"  by  J.  G.  Holland,  p.  301.) 

269 


APPENDIX  XV 

"  OUR  AMERICAN  COUSIN  " 

FORTY  years  ago  he  was  a  poorly  informed  playgoer 
who  was  not  fairly  conversant  with  the  history  of  that 
play  which  Lincoln  witnessed  the  night  of  his  assassination. 
But  to  most  readers  of  this  generation  it  means  little  or 
nothing  that  Good  Friday  night,  April  14,  1865,  was 
nearly  the  one  thousandth  performance  of  Miss  Laura 
Keene  as  Florence  Trenchard  in  "  Our  American  Cousin/' 
and  the  occasion  of  a  benefit  to  her.  And  yet,  quite 
apart  from  its  connection  with  the  tragedy  of  that  night, 
Tom  Taylor's  play  has  a  history  of  surpassing  interest 
and  variety.  In  brief,  it  is  somewhat  as  follows : 

During  the  years  1850-51,  when  the  World's  Fair  in 
London  was  drawing  throngs  of  visitors  to  the  Crystal 
Palace,  no  nation  was  more  strongly  represented  in  the 
exhibits  and  among  the  sightseers  than  the  United  States. 
"Yankees  "  were  the  rage  in  London,  and  Yankee  products 
took  precedence  of  all  others.  As  one  American  news 
paper  writer  said,  in  describing  the  Yankee  mania: 

"Hobbs    locks  were  placed  on  the  doors  of  the  Lord 

270 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  271 

Chamberlain's  offices;  Colt's  revolvers  were  in  the 
holsters  of  every  British  cavalry  officer;  Connecticut 
baby-jumpers  were  in  the  royal  nursery;  and  Massa 
chusetts  patent  back-acting,  self-adjusting,  rotary-motion, 
open-and-shut  mouse-traps  were  the  terror  of  even  aristo 
cratic  rats.  Lord  John  Russell  'guessed'  and  'calculated' 
on  the  Papal  Aggression  Bill;  Palmerston  and  Disraeli 
'whittled,'  one  on,  the  other  around,  the  Woolsack;  and 
through  the  columns  of  the  elegantly  worded  Court 
Circular  we  learned  that  at  a  particular  fraction  of  an 
hour,  on  a  particular  day  of  the  week,  Her  Most  Gracious 
Majesty  Queen  Victoria,  aided  by  the  Royal  Consort, 
His  Highness  Prince  Albert,  together  with  the  whole 
royal  family,  indulged  in  three  half-pints  of  'peanuts'  and 
four  and  two-sixteenths  of  our  genuine  'pumpkin-pies,' 
while  Cardinal  Wiseman  and  the  Bishop  of  London 
were  seen  playing  'poker'  over  two  stiff  'Bourbon  whisky- 
slings.'  " 

In  those  days  the  versatile  Tom  Taylor  was  a  young 
barrister  who  had  recently  emancipated  himself  from  his 
professorship  of  English  at  University  College,  London, 
and  was  just  beginning  to  establish  for  himself  that 
position  as  dramatic  critic  and  adapter,  humourist  and 
all-round  journalist,  that  led  him,  more  than  twenty  years 
later,  to  the  editorship  of  Punch.  Taylor  saw  the  humor- 


272  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

ous  side  of  the  Yankee  craze,  and  wrote  a  play  about  it 
which  he  called  "Our  American  Cousin."  The  leading 
character,  Asa  Trenchard,  was  virtually  written  to  fit 
a  Yankee  comedian  named  Josiah  Silsby,  then  playing 
in  London,  and  when  the  play  was  sold  by  Taylor  to  Mr. 
Ben  Webster,  lessee  of  the  Adelphi,  for  eighty  pounds,  it 
was  with  the  distinct  understanding  that  Silsby  was  to 
be  featured  in  it. 

But  before  an  opportunity  to  put  the  play  on  presented 
itself,  the  Yankee  mania  rapidly  declined,  and  Mr. 
Webster,  instead  of  producing  "Our  American  Cousin," 
made  a  present  of  the  piece  to  Silsby,  who,  on  re-reading 
it,  decided  that  it  was  ineffective  and  laid  it  aside.  Some 
years  later,  in  California,  he  found  himself  in  need  of  a 
play,  and  rehearsed  the  Taylor  comedy;  but  it  was 
again  deemed  unlikely  to  please,  and  he  did  not  put  it  on. 

It  came  to  the  ears  of  Taylor,  in  1858,  that  Silsby  was 
dead,  and  also  that  he  had  never  used  the  "  American 
Cousin"  play;  and  having  a  copy  of  it  among  his  manu 
scripts,  Taylor  put  it  in  the  hands  of  his  friend,  John 
Chandler  Bancroft  Davis,  secretary  of  the  United  States 
Legation  in  London.  Mr.  Davis,  on  arriving  in  New 
York,  took  the  play  first  to  Lester  Wallack.  That 
admirable  manager  saw  in  it  no  possibilities  for  his  com 
pany,  but  advised  Mr.  Davis  to  take  it  to  Miss  Laura 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  273 

Keene,  then  managing  a  theatre  of  her  own  on  the  east 
side  of  Broadway,  between  Bleecker  and  Houston  Streets, 
and  to  say  to  her  that  there  was  a  part  in  the  play  that 
might  be  excellently  adapted  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  of  her 
company. 

Mr.  Joseph  Jefferson,  although  of  distinguished  stage 
ancestry  and  a  personal  stage  experience  covering  nearly 
his  whole  life,  had  not  yet  made  any  considerable  mark 
for  himself.  He  was  not  far  from  thirty  years  old,  and 
most  people  thought  he  had  ability  —  as  for  him,  he  felt 
sure  of  it  —  but,  so  far,  his  chance  had  not  presented 
itself. 

Miss  Keene,  when  approached  with  the  Taylor  play, 
was  not  much  interested.  She  was  preparing  a  pro 
duction  of  "A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,"  and  all  her 
energies  and  resources  were  directed  thereunto.  It  hap 
pened,  however,  that  work  on  the  Shakespeare  play  went 
forward  tardily,  and,  owing  to  some  disappointments  by 
costumers  and  scene-painters,  the  date  of  the  first  per 
formance  had  to  be  postponed  two  weeks.  Miss  Keene 
was  sufficiently  in  need  of  something  to  fill  the  interim 
to  buy  —  on  the  recommendation  of  her  business  man 
ager  and  of  Mr.  Jefferson  —  the  Taylor  play  outright  for 
one  thousand  dollars. 

Jefferson,  in  his  "Autobiography,"  has  vividly  described 


274  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

the  scene  when  the  stop-gap  play  that  was  to  make  fame 
and  fortune  for  three  of  those  present  was  read  to  Miss 
Keene's  company. 

"The  reading,"  he  says,  "took  place  in  the  green-room, 
and  many  were  the  furtive  glances  cast  at  Mr.  Couldock 
and  me  as  the  strength  of  Abel  Murcott  and  Asa  Trench ard 
were  revealed.  Poor  So  them  sat  in  the  corner,  looking 
quite  disconsolate,  fearing  there  was  nothing  in  the  play 
that  would  suit  him;  and  as  the  dismal  lines  of  Dun 
dreary  were  read,  he  glanced  over  at  me  with  a  forlorn 
expression,  as  much  as  to  say,  'I  am  cast  for  that  dread 
ful  part'  —  little  dreaming  that  the  character  of  the  imbe 
cile  lord  would  turn  out  to  be  the  stepping-stone  to  his 
fortune.  The  success  of  the  play  proved  the  turning-point 
in  the  career  of  three  persons  —  Laura  Keene,  Sothern, 
and  myself." 

Perhaps  it  is  not  quite  comprehensible  to  the  play- 
going  world  how  the  play-acting  world  is  ever  alert  for 
that  "chance"  which  every  actor  feels  is  all  he  needs 
to  make  him  rich  and  famous.  Each  new  play  is  full  of 
potentialities  —  until  it  is  read  or  the  parts  are  appor 
tioned;  then  it  is  seen  to  be  quite  fiendishly  calculated  to 
keep  nearly  or  quite  every  one  in  the  company  from  doing 
what  nature  designed  him  for  and  art  calls  him  to  do. 
Either  the  playwright  went  malevolently  about  this 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  275 

repression  business,  or  the  stage-manager  schemed  it  out 
and  achieved  his  ends  by  giving  everybody  exactly  the 
wrong  part. 

"Poor  Sothern,"  as  Jefferson  called  him,  may  well  have 
been  disconsolate  over  the  forty-seven  silly  lines  allotted 
him.  It  was  only  one  more  disappointment  in  a  long 
list,  but  Sothern  felt  that  the  list  was  already  too  long, 
and  that  the  profession  he  had  chosen  for  himself  against 
all  the  traditions  of  his  family  was  ill-chosen  and  were 
better  abandoned.  He  had  been  acting  for  nine  years  — 
all  but  two  years  of  the  time  in  America  —  and  had  met 
with  small  success  indeed.  About  the  time  of  that  read 
ing  in  Laura  Keene's  green-room,  Sothern  was  writing 
home  to  one  of  his  English  friends  about  "  a  long,  strug 
gling  tear"  that  forced  its  way  down  his  "  cheek,  that  fate 
had  done  naught  but  cuff  for  years,"  and  telling  of  gray 
hairs  which  "have  been  forced  through  the  hotbed 
of  my  weary  skull." 

It  was  to  this  ambitious,  hard-working,  but  almost 
through-hoping  young  Englishman  of  two-and-thirty 
that  the  silly  lines  of  Dundreary  fell.  At  first  he  said  he 
could  do  nothing  with  the  part;  "and  certainly,"  as 
Jefferson  testifies,  "for  the  first  two  weeks  it  was  a  dull 
effort  and  produced  but  little  effect."  Then  Sothern 
asked  permission  to  rewrite  Dundreary,  and,  this  being 


276  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

granted,  he  began  to  feel  his  way  with  his  audiences  by 
introducing  little  extravagances  of  speech  and  action. 
Some  of  these  were  the  result  of  marvellously  minute 
studies  he  had  made  from  real  types  —  he  used  to  con 
tend,  when  charged  with  the  exaggerations  of  Dundreary, 
that  there  was  nothing  in  the  portrayal  he  had  not  taken 
direct  from  life  —  and  some  of  them  were  happy  acci 
dents,  like  the  famous  skipping  walk.  Of  this  walk  it 
is  told  that,  at  a  rehearsal  of  the  play,  Sothern,  to  keep 
warm  in  the  cold  theatre,  was  hopping  and  skipping 
about  the  outer  confines  of  the  stage,  to  the  no  small 
amusement  of  his  fellow  actors,  when  Miss  Keene  called 
sharply  to  him  and  asked  if  that  were  part  of  his  rehearsal. 
He  replied  promptly  that  it  was,  and  in  a  spirit  of  bravado 
kept  on.  In  the  same  spirit  he  introduced  the  skip  into 
his  entrance  that  night,  and  found  that  it  was  an  instan 
taneous  success,  bringing  a  tremendous  laugh  for  Dun 
dreary  where  before  there  had  been  only  tolerance. 
Cautiously,  artistically,  he  proceeded  to  elaborate  the 
part  until,  as  Jefferson  magnanimously  says,  "Before 
the  first  month  was  over  he  stood  side  by  side  with  any 
other  character  in  the  play;  and  at  the  end  of  the  run  he 
was,  in  my  opinion,  considerably  in  advance  of  us  all." 

The  piece,  put  on  for  a  fortnight,  ran  for  one  hundred 
and  forty   consecutive   nights  —  a  phenomenal  run   for 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  277 

that  epoch  —  and  thoroughly  established,  in  New  York 
at  least,  the  fame  of  Jefferson  and  Sothern,  and  trans 
formed  them  both  from  more  or  less  discouraged  young 
"members  of  stock"  to  men  with  ambition  —  and  con 
fidence—to  "star." 

When  the  curtain  descended  the  first  night  on  Jefferson's 
immediately  successful  presentation  of  Asa  Trenchard, 
"visions  of  large  type,  foreign  countries,  and  increased 
remuneration"  floated  before  him,  and  he  was  already 
resolved  to  be  a  star. 

Accordingly,  when  at  the  end  of  March  "A  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream "  was  put  on  —  not  because  the  demand 
for  "Our  American  Cousin"  had  abated,  but  because 
Miss  Keene  had  grown  tired  of  her  part  and  tireder  of 
hearing  her  two  comedians  praised  above  herself  — 
Jefferson,  who  had  not  got  on  well  with  Miss  Keene  and 
who  was  of  no  mind  to  abandon  Asa  Trenchard,  told  her 
that  he  would  not  rejoin  her  company  next  season.  She 
reproached  him  with  lack  of  gratitude;  to  which  he 
replied  that  he  thought  the  honours  were  about  even,  and 
that,  "anyway,"  he  was  going  to  "star";  at  which  Miss 
Keene  sniffed  her  contempt  and  inquired  in  what  play 
he  would  storm  the  country.  He  replied  that,  with  her 
permission,  he  purposed  to  act  "Our  American  Cousin." 
Miss  Keene  indicated  that  he  "had  another  purpose 


278  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

coming  to  him,"  so  to  speak.  And  there  the  matter  rested 
for  a  time,  until  she  deputed  her  business  manager  to 
speak  to  Mr.  Jefferson  —  she  herself  not  being  on  speak 
ing  terms  with  that  hoity-toity  young  man  —  and  require 
him  to  resign  the  part  of  Bottom  in  favour  of  Mr.  Blake, 
a  comedian  of  her  company  who  had  had  no  part  in  the 
Taylor  play.  This  Jefferson  refused  to  do,  saying  that 
if  Mr.  Blake  wanted  to  play  in  "A  Midsummer  Night" 
he  could  play  Puck.  As  Mr.  Blake  weighed  two  hundred 
pounds  or  thereabouts,  and  was  unwieldy  to  boot,  this 
suggestion  did  not  meet  with  favour  in  any  quarter,  and 
there  was  a  bitter  quarrel,  which  finally  came  to  an  end 
by  Jefferson's  offer  to  lend  his  far  slenderer  and  sprightlier 
person  to  Puck  if  Miss  Keene  would  let  him  star  in  Taylor's 
play,  and  give  her,  for  the  use  of  it,  one  half  the  profits. 
His  starring  venture  was  not  a  success,  and  in  September 
he  joined  Boucicault's  forces  at  the  Winter  Garden. 
But  during  the  years  1861-65  he  toured  Australia  and 
South  America,  playing  Asa  Trenchard  with  some  little 
success. 

The  part  was  never  again  so  prominent  in  his  career 
as  during  that  first  run  in  New  York;  but  Asa  had  done 
something  for  him  which  put  his  performance  of  that 
character,  and  even  the  confidence  it  gave  him  in  his 
abilities,  quite  among  the  lesser  results,  for  him,  of  Tom 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  279 

Taylor's  play:  it  led  him  to  Rip  Van  Winkle!  The 
success  he  achieved  as  Asa  was  of  a  sort  he  longed  to 
duplicate,  and  in  his  attempts  to  analyze  it  he  evolved 
the  idea  of  a  Rip  Van  Winkle  play,  three  or  four  bad 
dramatizations  of  which  had  already  been  acted  without 
any  considerable  success.  So  much  for  Jefferson's  fortune 
as  indebted  to  Taylor's  play. 

I  have  not  been  able  to  find  out  by  just  what  arrange 
ment  with  Miss  Keene  Sothern  got  the  rights  to  Dun 
dreary,  but  he  played  it  in  this  country  for  months  after 
she  discontinued  the  piece,  and  in  November,  1861,  he 
opened  with  it  at  the  Haymarket,  London,  where,  after  a 
month  of  discouraging  business,  it  suddenly  caught  on,  and 
played  to  crowded  houses  for  four  hundred  consecutive 
nights. 

The  part  continued  to  be  Sothern's  most  famous 
characterization,  and  he  acted  in  it  with  undiminishing 
success  until  he  died.  Nothing  else  he  ever  did  created 
such  a  furore;  indeed,  few  things  that  anybody  ever  did 
on  the  stage  have  been  so  great  popular  achievements 
or  have  belonged  so  solely  to  their  creators.  The  fortunes 
Dundreary  earned  for  Sothern  were  princely;  the  fame  he 
made  for  Sothern  was  not  eclipsed  by  that  of  any  other 
comedian  of  his  day;  the  fashions  he  set  for  all  the  world 
were  comparable  to  nothing  in  recent  stage  history: 


280  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Dundreary  coats,  Dundreary  whiskers,  Dundreary  vests 
and  monocles,  had  almost  as  universal  vogue  as  "Dun- 
drearyisms"  —some  of  which  latter  remain  to  us  yet 
in  the  oft-quoted  "  Birds  of  a  feather  gather  no  moss," 
and  similar  perverted  parables. 

It  was  amid  the  laughter  of  this  piece  —  which  he  knew 
by  heart  —  that  John  Wilkes  Booth  planned  to  accomplish 
the  murder  of  Lincoln.  When,  on  the  morning  of  April 
14th,  as  he  sat  reading  his  letters  in  Mr.  Ford's  office, 
he  heard  that  the  President  was  going  to  attend  the  per 
formance  that  night,  he  determined  on  a  plan  of  action 
that  came  incredibly  near  allowing  him  to  affect  his  escape 
and  leave  the  deed,  done  in  the  sight  of  hundreds,  shrouded 
in  mystery. 

[  I  am  indebted  —  after  having  interviewed  every  dis 
coverable  survivor  of  the  audience  at  Ford's  Theater  that 
fateful  Good  Friday  night,  and  being  told  that  the  Presi 
dential  party  arrived  at  8.30,  at  9,  at  9.30,  and  at  all  the 
times  between  —  to  Mr.  George  C.  Maynard  for  a  definite 
statement.  Mr.  Maynard,  then  of  the  War  Telegraph 
Office,  and  now  of  the  National  Museum,  was  in  the  habit 
of  keeping  his  theatre  programmes.  On  the  margin  of  the 
long  play-bill  of  that  night  he  made  a  note  of  the  point 
in  the  play  at  which  Mr.  Lincoln  came  in,  and  wrote 
down  the  lines  being  spoken  as  the  Presidential  party 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  281 

entered  the  box.  Florence  Trenchard  was  trying  to  tell  a 
joke  to  Dundreary,  who  —  of  course  —  did  not  see  it. 

"Can't  you  see  it?"  she  said. 

"No,  I  can't  see  it,"  he  assured  her. 

Just  then  Mr.  Lincoln  entered  the  state  box  on  the 
upper  right-hand  side  of  the  house,  and  Miss  Keene, 
catching  sight  of  him,  said:  "Well,  everybody  can  see 
that!"  nodding  toward  the  box.  And  the  orchestra 
struck  up  "Hail  to  the  Chief,"  the  audience  cheered,  and 
the  play  was  at  a  standstill  for  a  minute. 

In  the  elder  Sothern's  prompt-book  (preserved  by  his  son) 
this  incident  occurs  late  in  the  first  act;  whether  it  was 
the  same  in  Miss  Keene's  version  I  have  been  unable  to 
learn,  but  it  probably  was,  and  that  would  fix  the  time 
of  Mr.  Lincoln's  entrance  at  about  half-past  eight  or  a 
quarter  to  nine. 

The  shot  was  fired  during  the  second  scene  of  the  third 
act.  It  was  during  the  scene  when  Asa  is  alone  on  the 
stage  that  Booth  fired,  jumped,  and  made  his  frantic 
rush  across  the  front  of  the  stage  to  the  "  prompt  entrance  " 
on  the  opposite  side,  and  out  through  that  to  the  stage 
door. 

The  play,  interrupted  at  that  point,  was  never  again 
presented  in  Washington  until  December  12,  1907,  when 
the  younger  Sothern  revived  it  at  the  Belasco  Theatre, 


282  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

on  the  site  of  the  old  Seward  house  where  Secretary 
Seward  was  nearly  done  to  death  by  Booth's  accomplice, 
Lewis  Payne,  on  the  same  fatal  night  of  Lincoln's  murder. 
(Clara  E.  Laughlin,  in  McClure's  Magazine  for  December, 
1908.) 


APPENDIX  XVI 
ATZERODT'S  STATEMENT 

AT  THE  conclusion  of  his  argument  in  behalf  of  George 
A.  Atzerodt,  his  counsel,  W.  E.  Doster,  read  the  follow 
ing  statement  by  Atzerodt: 

I  am  one  of  a  party  who  agreed  to  capture  the  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States,  but  I  am  not  one  of  a  party  to 
kill  the  President  of  the  United  States,  or  any  member 
of  the  Cabinet,  or  General  Grant,  or  Vice-President 
Johnson.  The  first  plot  to  capture  failed,  the  second  — 
to  kill  —  I  broke  away  from  the  moment  I  heard  of  it. 

This  is  the  way  it  came  about:  On  the  evening  of 
April  14th  I  met  Booth  and  Payne  at  the  Herndon 
House  in  this  city,  at  eight  o'clock.  He  (Booth)  said  he 
himself  should  murder  Mr.  Lincoln  and  General  Grant, 
Payne  should  take  Mr.  Seward,  and  I  should  take  Mr. 
Johnson.  I  told  him  I  would  not  do  it;  that  I  had  gone 
into  the  thing  to  capture,  but  I  was  not  going  to  kill. 
He  told  me  I  was  a  fool;  that  I  would  be  hung  anyhow; 
and  that  it  was  death  for  every  man  that  backed  out; 
and  so  we  parted.  I  wandered  about  the  streets  until 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  then  went  to  the 
Kimmell  House,  and  from  there  pawned  my  pistol  at 
Georgetown,  and  went  to  my  cousin's  house  in  Mont 
gomery  County,  where  I  was  arrested  the  19th  following. 
After  I  was  arrested,  I  told  Provost-Marshal  Wells  and 

288 


284  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Provost-Marshal  McPhail  the  whole  story;  also  told  it 
to  Captain  Monroe,  and  Colonel  Wells  told  me  if  I  pointed 
out  the  way  Booth  had  gone  I  would  be  reprieved,  and 
so  I  told  him  I  thought  he  had  gone  down  Charles  County 
in  order  to  cross  the  Potomac.  The  arms  which  were 
found  in  my  room  at  the  Kirkwood  House,  and  a  black 
coat,  do  not  belong  to  me;  neither  were  they  left  to  be 
used  by  me.  On  the  afternoon  of  April  14th,  Herold 
called  to  see  me  and  left  the  coat  there.  It  is  his  coat, 
and  all  in  it  belongs  to  him,  as  you  can  see  by  the  hand 
kerchiefs,  marked  with  his  initial  and  with  the  name 
of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Naylor.  Now  I  will  state  how  I 
passed  the  whole  of  the  evening  of  April  14th:  In 
the  afternoon,  at  about  two  o'clock,  I  went  to  Keleher's 
stable,  on  Eighth  Street,  near  D,  and  hired  a  dark-bay 
mare  and  rode  into  the  country  for  pleasure,  and  on  my 
return  put  her  up  at  Naylor's  stable.  The  dark-bay 
horse  which  I  had  kept  at  Naylor's  before,  on  or  about 
April  3rd,  belonged  to  Booth;  also  the  saddle  and 
bridle.  I  do  not  know  what  became  of  him.  At  about 
six  in  the  evening  I  went  to  Naylor's  again,  and  took  out 
the  mare,  rode  out  for  an  hour,  and  returned  her  to 
Naylor's.  It  was  then  nearly  eight,  and  I  told  him  to 
keep  the  mare  ready  at  ten  o'clock,  in  order  to  return 
her  to  the  man  I  hired  her  from.  From  there  I  went  to 
the  Herndon  House.  Booth  sent  a  messenger  to  the 
"oyster  bay"  and  I  went.  Booth  wanted  me  to 
murder  Mr.  Johnson.  I  refused.  I  then  went  to  the 
"oyster  bay"  on  the  Avenue,  above  Twelfth  Street, 
and  whiled  away  the  time  until  nearly  ten.  At  ten  I  got 
the  mare,  and  having  taken  a  drink  with  the  hostler, 
galloped  about  town,  and  went  to  the  Kimmell  House. 
From  there  I  rode  down  to  the  depot,  and  returned  my 
horse,  riding  up  Pennsylvania  Avenue  to  Keleher's. 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  285 

From  Keleher's  I  went  down  to  the  Navy  Yard  to  get 
a  room  with  Wash.  Briscoe.  He  had  none,  and  by  the 
time  I  got  back  to  the  Kimmell  House  it  was  nearly  two. 
The  man  Thomas  was  a  stranger  I  met  on  the  street. 
Next  morning,  as  stated,  I  went  to  my  cousin's,  in  Mont 
gomery  County.  (Conspiracy  Trial,  p.  307.) 


APPENDIX  XVII 

THE  TRIAL   OF   JOHN   SURRATT 

IMMEDIATELY  after  arriving  in  Montreal,  April  18th, 
Surratt  went  to  the  house  of  a  Southern  gentleman  con 
nected  with  the  Ontario  Bank;  his  name  was  Porterfield. 
But  Weichmann  and  United  States  detectives  were  in 
Montreal  searching  for  Surratt,  and  it  was  deemed  best 
for  him  to  go  out  forty  miles  into  the  country,  to  the 
village  of  St.  Liboire,  where  a  priest  named  Father 
Boucher  gave  the  fugitive  asylum  for  three  months. 
During  August  and  the  early  days  of  September,  Surratt 
was  sheltered  and  hid  by  another  priest,  and  the  second 
week  in  September  the  two  priests  took  him  by  steamer 
to  Qubec  and  saw  him  aboard  the  Peruvian  bound  for 
Liverpool.  Surratt  remained  in  Liverpool  until  November, 
when  he  went  to  Rome  and  enlisted  in  the  Papal  Zouaves. 
He  was  recognized  by  a  French-Canadian  friend  of 
Weichmann's,  informed  against,  and  after  many  delays, 
while  diplomatic  correspondence  passed  back  and  forth 
between  Rome  and  Washington,  his  arrest  was  ordered 
by  the  Papal  Government.  He  was  arrested  November 

286 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  287 

7,  1866,  but  escaped,  the  next  morning,  from  the  guard 
of  six  soldiers  who  were  taking  him  to  Rome.  This  he 
did  by  jumping  over  a  balustrade  on  to  a  ledge  of  rocks 
projecting  over  a  deep  abyss.  He  made  his  perilous 
way  into  the  valley  below  Velletri,  and  reached  Naples, 
whence  he  sailed,  November  19th,  for  Alexandria,  Egypt. 
There,  on  the  27th,  he  was  arrested  by  the  United  States 
consul-general.  On  December  21st  he  was  sent  home 
in  irons  on  an  armed  United  States  vessel.  His  trial 
was  held  in  the  criminal  court  for  the  District  of  Columbia, 
Judge  George  P.  Fisher  presiding.  The  District  Attorney 
was  E.  C.  Carrington,  who  had  one  regular  and  two 
special  assistants.  Counsel  for  Surratt  were  Joseph  H. 
Bradley  and  his  son  and  R.  T.  Merrick.  The  trial 
opened  June  10,  1867,  and  the  taking  of  testimony  from 
more  than  two  hundred  witnesses  lasted  until  July  26th. 
On  July  27th  the  District  Attorney  began  his  argument; 
he  spoke  for  three  whole  days.  Mr.  Merrick,  speaking 
for  the  defence,  spoke  for  two  days,  and  the  senior  Bradley 
followed  him,  speaking  all  day  Friday.  Pierrepont,  chief 
of  counsel  assisting  the  prosecution,  spoke  all  day  Saturday, 
Monday,  and  Tuesday.  On  the  seventh  of  August  the 
judge  charged  the  jury,  and  the  jurors  retired  to  their 
room  at  11.32.  Saturday,  August  10th,  at  1  p.  M.,  they 
reappeared  in  court  and  begged  to  be  dismissed,  saying 


288  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

that  they  could  not  agree.  Thus  ended  the  trial  of  sixty- 
two  days.  Surratt  was  remanded  to  the  Old  Capitol 
Prison  whence,  some  months  later,  he  was  released  on 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars  bail.  Later,  he  was  again 
arraigned  for  trial,  but  not  on  the  charge  of  murder.  The 
second  trial  never  came  off,  and  the  prisoner  was  released. 
He  has  for  many  years  been  a  respected  and  exemplary 
citizen  of  Baltimore,  where  he  has  done  all  in  his  power 
to  bury  the  past,  never  referring  to  it  even  to  his  children. 
Every  now  and  then  an  alleged  newspaper  interview 
with  him  appears;  they  are  all  fabrications  —  he  has 
never  been  interviewed.  For  his  boyish  participation 
n  a  conspiracy  of  war,  John  Surratt  has  paid  a  penalty 
not  much  less  hideous  than  some  of  the  worst  Russian 
horrors  we  read  about. 


APPENDIX  XVIII 

MAJOR  RATHBONE'S  STATEMENT 

BEFORE  Judge  A.  B.  Olin,  Justice  Supreme  Court, 
District  of  Columbia,  on  the  17th  of  April,  Major  Henry 
R.  Rathbone  subscribed  and  swore  to  the  following 
statement: 

That  on  April  14th,  1865,  at  about  twenty  minutes 
past  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  he,  with  Miss  Clara  H. 
Harris,  left  his  residence,  at  the  corner  of  Fifteenth  and 
H  Streets,  and  joined  the  President  and  Mrs.  Lincoln, 
and  went  with  them  in  their  carriage  to  Ford's  Theatre, 
in  Tenth  Street.  The  box  assigned  to  the  President  is 
in  the  second  tier,  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the  audience, 
and  was  occupied  by  the  President  and  Mrs.  Lincoln, 
Miss  Harris,  and  the  deponent  —  and  by  no  other  person. 
The  box  is  entered  by  passing  from  the  front  of  the  build 
ing,  in  the  rear  of  the  dress  circle,  to  a  small  entry  or 
passage-way,  about  eight  feet  in  length  and  four  feet  in 
width. 

This  passage-way  is  entered  by  a  door,  which  opens 
on  the ,  inner  side.  The  door  is  so  placed  as  to  make  an 
acute  angle  between  it  and  the  wall  behind  it  on  the 
inner  side.  At  the  inner  end  of  this  passage-way  is 
another  door,  standing  squarely  across,  and  opening 
into  the  box.  On  the  left-hand  side  of  the  passage-way, 
and  very  near  the  inner  end,  is  a  third  door,  which  also 


290  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

opens  into  the  box.  This  latter  door  was  closed.  The 
party  entered  the  box  through  the  door  at  the  end  of  the 
passage-way.  The  box  is  so  constructed  that  it  may 
be  divided  into  two  by  a  movable  partition,  one  of  the 
doors  described  opening  into  each.  The  front  of  the 
box  is  about  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  length,  and  in  the  centre 
of  the  railing  is  a  small  pillar  overhung  with  a  curtain. 
The  depth  of  the  box  from  front  to  rear  is  about  nine 
feet.  The  elevation  of  the  box  above  the  stage,  including 
the  railing,  is  about  ten  or  twelve  feet. 

When  the  party  entered  the  box,  a  cushioned  arm 
chair  was  standing  at  the  end  of  the  box  farthest  from 
the  stage  and  nearest  the  audience.  This  was  also  the 
nearest  point  to  the  door  by  which  the  box  is  entered. 
The  President  seated  himself  in  this  chair  —  and,  except 
that  he  once  left  the  chair  for  the  purpose  of  putting  on 
his  overcoat,  remained  so  seated  until  he  was  shot. 
Mrs.  Lincoln  was  seated  in  a  chair  between  the  President 
and  the  pillar  in  the  centre  above  described.  At  the 
opposite  end  of  the  box  —  that  nearest  the  end  of  the 
stage  —  were  two  chairs.  In  one  of  these,  standing  in 
the  corner,  Miss  Harris  was  seated.  At  her  left  hand,  and 
along  the  wall  running  from  that  end  of  the  box  to  the 
rear,  stood  a  small  sofa.  At  the  end  of  this  sofa,  next 
to  Miss  Harris,  this  deponent  was  seated.  The  distance 
between  this  deponent  and  the  President,  as  they  were 
sitting,  was  about  seven  or  eight  feet;  and  the  distance 
between  this  deponent  and  the  door  was  about  the  same. 

The  distance  between  the  President,  as  he  sat,  and 
the  door,  was  about  four  or  five  feet.  The  door,  accord 
ing  to  the  recollection  of  this  deponent,  was  not  closed 
during  the  evening.  When  the  second  scene  of  the 
third  act  was  being  performed,  and  while  this  deponent 
was  intently  observing  the  proceedings  upon  the  stage, 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  291 

with  his  back  toward  the  door,  he  heard  the  discharge 
of  a  pistol  behind  him,  and  looking  around,  saw,  through 
the  smoke,  a  man  between  the  door  and  the  President. 
At  the  same  time  deponent  heard  him  shout  some  word, 
which  deponent  thinks  was  "Freedom!"  This  deponent 
instantly  sprang  toward  him  and  seized  him;  he  wrested 
himself  from  the  grasp,  and  made  a  violent  thrust  at  the 
breast  of  deponent  with  a  large  knife.  Deponent  parried 
the  blow  by  striking  it  up,  and  received  a  wound  several 
inches  deep  in  his  left  arm,  between  the  elbow  and  the 
shoulder.  The  orifice  of  the  wound  is  about  an  inch  and 
a  half  in  length,  and  extends  upwrard  toward  the  shoulder 
several  inches.  The  man  rushed  to  the  front  of  the  box, 
and  deponent  endeavoured  to  seize  him  again,  but  only 
caught  his  clothes  as  he  was  leaping  over  the  railing  of 
the  box.  The  clothes,  as  deponent  believes,  were  torn 
in  this  attempt  to  seize  him. 

As  he  went  over  upon  the  stage  deponent  cried  out, 
with  a  loud  voice:  "Stop  that  man!"  Deponent  then 
turned  to  the  President;  his  position  was  not  changed; 
his  head  was  slightly  bent  forward,  and  his  eyes  were 
closed.  Deponent  saw  that  he  was  unconscious,  and 
supposing  him  mortally  wounded,  rushed  to  the  door  for 
the  purpose  of  calling  medical  aid.  On  reaching  the  outer 
door  of  the  passage-way,  as  above  described,  deponent 
found  it  barred  by  a  heavy  piece  of  plank,  one  end  of  which 
was  secured  in  the  wall,  and  the  other  resting  against  the 
door.  It  had  been  so  securely  fastened  that  it  required 
considerable  force  to  remove  it.  This  wedge,  or  bar, 
was  about  four  feet  from  the  floor.  Persons  upon  the 
outside  were  beating  against  the  door  for  the  purpose  of 
entering.  Deponent  removed  the  bar,  and  the  door  was 
opened. 

Several   persons,   who   represented   themselves   to   be 


292  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

surgeons,  were  allowed  to  enter.  Deponent  saw  there 
Colonel  Crawford,  and  requested  him  to  prevent  other 
persons  from  entering  the  box.  Deponent  then  returned 
to  the  box,  and  found  the  surgeons  examining  the  Presi 
dent's  person.  They  had  not  yet  discovered  the  wound. 
As  soon  as  it  was  discovered  it  was  determined  to  remove 
him  from  the  theatre.  He  was  carried  out,  and  this 
deponent  then  proceeded  to  assist  Mrs.  Lincoln,  who  was 
intensely  excited,  to  leave  the  theatre.  On  reaching  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  deponent  requested  Major  Potter  to  aid 
him  in  assisting  Mrs.  Lincoln  across  the  street,  to  the  house 
to  which  the  President  was  being  conveyed.  The  wound 
which  the  deponent  had  received  had  been  bleeding  very 
profusely,  and  on  reaching  the  house,  feeling  very  faint 
from  the  loss  of  blood,  he  seated  himself  in  the  hall,  and 
soon  after  fainted  away,  and  was  laid  upon  the  floor. 
Upon  the  return  of  consciousness  deponent  was  taken  in  a 
carriage  to  his  residence. 

In  the  review  of  the  transaction  it  is  the  confident  belief 
of  this  deponent  that  the  time  which  elapsed  between  the 
discharge  of  the  pistol  and  the  time  when  the  assassin 
leaped  from  the  box  did  not  exceed  thirty  seconds. 
Neither  Mrs.  Lincoln  nor  Miss  Harris  had  left  their  seats. 


APPENDIX  XIX 

HARRY  HAWK'S  ACCOUNT 

MR.  HARRY  HAWK,  who  was  playing  the  part  of  Asa 
Tren chard,  made  famous  by  Joseph  Jefferson,  was  a  dear 
friend  of  Edwin  Booth's,  and  out  of  respect  to  the  terribly 
sensitive  feelings  of  the  great  tragedian  refused  all  urgings 
to  talk  of  the  crime  while  Edwin  was  alive.  After  Edwin 
Booth's  death,  however,  Mr.  Hawk,  on  a  visit  to  the  house 
where  Lincoln  died,  talked  to  Mr.  Oldroyd,  the  custodian, 
and  allowed  Mr.  Oldroyd  to  print  the  following  statement 
in  his  book: 

Mrs.  Muzzey,  in  the  r6le  of  Mrs.  Mountchessington, 
having  just  discovered  that  Asa  Trenchard  was  not  the 
man  of  wealth  she  supposed,  had  turned  angrily  to  her 
daughter  Georgina,  saying:  '  Go  to  your  room;  you  may 
go  to  your  room  at  once!'  Then  she  turned  haughtily 
and  made  her  exit  on  the  left,  leaving  me  alone  and  looking 
after  her.  My  lines  were:  'Society,  eh?  Well,  I  guess  I 
know  enough  to  turn  you  inside  out,  old  woman,  you 
darned  old  sockdolaging  man-trap!'  I  was  looking  up  at 
the  President's  box  as  I  repeated  the  lines,  and  the  words 
had  barely  left  my  lips,  and  the  shouts  of  laughter  were 
ringing,  when  the  shot  sounded  through  the  house." 
(Oldroyd,  p.  28.) 

293 


APPENDIX  XX 

AFFIDAVIT  OF  MISS  HARRIS 

CLARA  H.  HARRIS,  being  duly  sworn,  says  that  she  has 
read  the  foregoing  affidavit  of  Major  Rathbone,  and  knows 
the  contents  thereof,  that  she  was  present  at  Ford's  Theatre 
with  the  President,  and  Mrs.  Lincoln,  and  Major  Rath- 
bone  on  the  evening  of  the  fourteenth  of  April  instant;  that 
at  the  time  she  heard  the  discharge  of  the  pistol  she  was 
attentively  engaged  in  observing  what  was  transpiring  upon 
the  stage,  and  looking  round,  she  saw  Major  Rathbone 
spring  from  his  seat  and  advance  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
box;  that  she  saw  him  engaged,  as  if  in  a  struggle,  with 
another  man,  but  the  smoke  with  which  he  was  enveloped 
prevented  this  deponent  from  seeing  distinctly  the  other 
man;  that  the  first  time  she  saw  him  distinctly  was  when 
he  leaped  from  the  box  upon  the  stage ;  that  she  then  heard 
Major  Rathbone  cry  out:  "Stop  that  man!"  and  this 
deponent  then  immediately  repeated  the  cry:  "Stop  that 
man!  Won't  somebody  stop  that  man?"  A  moment 
after,  some  one  from  the  stage  asked:  "What  is  it?"  or 
"What  is  the  matter?"  and  deponent  replied:  "The 

294 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  295 

President  is  shot."  Very  soon  after,  two  persons,  one 
wearing  the  uniform  of  a  naval  surgeon,  and  the  other 
that  of  a  soldier  of  the  Veteran  Reserve  Corps,  came  upon 
the  stage,  and  the  deponent  assisted  them  in  climbing  up 
to  the  box. 

And  this  deponent  further  says,  that  the  facts  stated  in 
the  foregoing  affidavit,  so  far  as  the  same  came  to  the 
knowledge  or  notice  of  this  deponent,  are  accurately  stated 
therein. 


APPENDIX  XXI 

BOOTH  IN  BOSTON 

EDWIN  BOOTH,  at  the  Boston  Theatre,  was  playing  that 
night,  not  "  Hamlet,"  as  usually  reported,  but  a  double 
bill:  "The  Iron  Chest"  and  "Don  Csesar  de  Bazan." 
He  was  playing  Colman's  tragedy,  "The  Iron  Chest, "  last, 
and  at  about  the  moment  of  John's  crime  Edwin,  as  Sir 
Edward  Mortimer,  the  homicide,  was  standing  with 
uplifted  dagger  threatening  the  life  of  a  youth  who  seemed 
on  the  point  of  opening  the  iron  chest  wherein  the  secret 
of  Sir  Edward's  guilt  was  locked.  This  was  told  the 
present  writer  by  Miss  Ida  Vernon,  Booth's  friend  and  one 
time  leading  woman,  to  whom  he  commented  on  the 
coincidence. 

Junius  Brutus  Booth  was  playing  in  Cincinnati,  and  with 
difficulty  escaped  the  vengeance  of  a  mob  anxious  to 
wreak  its  fury  on  any  one  belonging  to  the  man  reported 
to  have  murdered  the  President. 

At  seven  o'clock  Saturday  morning,  April  15th,  Henry  C. 
Jarrett,  manager  of  the  Boston  Theatre,  where  Edwin 
Booth  was  playing,  wrote  to  him  as  follows : 

296 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  297 

EDWIN  BOOTH,  ESQ. 

MY  DEAR  SIR:  A  fearful  calamity  is  upon  us.  The 
President  of  the  United  States  has  fallen  by  the  hand  of 
an  assassin,  and  I  am  shocked  to  say  suspicion  points  to 
one  nearly  related  to  you  as  the  perpetrator  of  this  horrid 
deed.  God  grant  it  may  not  prove  so!  With  this  knowl 
edge,  and  out  of  respect  to  the  anguish  which  will  fill  the 
public  mind  as  soon  as  the  appalling  fact  shall  be  fully 
revealed,  I  have  concluded  to  close  the  Boston  Theatre 
until  further  notice.  Please  signify  to  me  your  co-operation 
in  this  matter. 

In  great  sorrow,  and  in  haste,  I  remain,  yours  very  truly, 

HENRY  C.  JARRETT. 

To  this  Edwin' Booth  immediately  replied: 

HENRY  C.  JARRETT,  ESQ. 

MY  DEAR  SIR  :  With  deepest  sorrow  and  great  agitation 
I  thank  you  for  relieving  me  from  my  engagement  with 
yourself  and  the  public.  The  news  of  the  morning  has 
made  me  wretched  indeed,  not  only  because  I  have  received 
the  unhappy  tidings  of  the  suspicions  of  a  brother's  crime, 
but  because  a  good  man,  and  a  most  justly  honoured  and 
patriotic  ruler,  has  fallen,  in  an  hour  of  national  joy,  by 
the  hand  of  an  assassin.  The  memory  of  the  thousands 
who  have  fallen  in  the  field,  in  our  country's  defence,  dur 
ing  this  struggle,  cannot  be  forgotten  by  me,  even  in  this, 
the  most  distressing  day  of  my  life.  And  I  most  sincerely 
pray  that  the  victories  we  have  already  won  may  stay  the 
brand  of  war  and  the  tide  of  loyal  blood.  While  mourn 
ing,  in  common  with  all  other  loyal  hearts,  the  death  of  the 
President,  I  am  oppressed  by  a  private  woe  not  to  be 
expressed  in  words.  But  whatever  calamity  may  befall  me 
and  mine,  my  country,  one  and  indivisible,  has  my  warmest 
devotion.  EDWIN  BOOTH. 


APPENDIX  XXII 

LETTER  OF  WILLIAM   T.   CLARK 

In  the  room  where  Lincoln  died  there  now  hangs  the 
following  letter  written  by  young  William  T.  Clark,  a 
soldier  belonging  to  Company  D,  13th  Massachusetts 
Infantry,  and  detailed  to  duty  in  the  Quartermaster's 
Department;  he  was  the  recent  occupant  of  the  little  room 
where  the  President  died : 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  Wednesday,  April  19, 1865. 

DEAR  SISTER  IDA:  To-day  the  funeral  of  Mr.  Lincoln 
takes  place.  The  streets  are  being  crowded  at  this  early 
hour  (9  A.  M.),  and  the  procession  will  probably  not  move 
for  three  hours. 

The  past  few  days  have  been  of  intense  excitement; 
arrests  are  numerously  made  —  if  any  party  is  heard  to 
utter  secesh  sentiments.  The  time  has  come  when  persons 
cannot  say  what  they  please,  for  the  people  are  awfully 
indignant.  Hundreds  daily  call  at  the  house  to  gain 
admission  to  my  room.  I  was  engaged  nearly  all  Sunday 
with  one  of  Frank  Leslie's  special  artists,  aiding  him  in 
making  a  complete  drawing  of  the  last  moments  of  Mr. 
Lincoln,  as  I  know  the  position  of  every  one  present.  He 
succeeded  in  executing  a  fine  sketch,  which  will  appear  in 
their  paper.  He  wished  to  mention  the  names  of  all 
pictures  in  the  room,  particularly  the  photograph  of 
yourself,  Clara,  and  Nannie;  but  I  told  him  he  must  not 

298 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  299 

do  that,  as  they  were  members  of  my  family,  and  I  did  not 
wish  them  to  be  made  so  public.  He  also  urged  me  to  give 
him  my  picture,  or  at  least  to  allow  him  to  take  my  sketch, 
but  I  could  not  see  that  either.  Everybody  has  a  great 
desire  to  obtain  some  memento  from  my  room,  so  that 
whoever  comes  in  has  to  be  closely  watched  for  fear  they 
will  steal  something.  I  have  a  lock  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  hair, 
which  I  have  had  neatly  framed;  also  a  piece  of  linen  with 
a  portion  of  his  brain.  The  pillow  and  case  upon  which 
he  lay  when  he  died,  and  nearly  all  his  wearing  apparel,  I 
intend  to  send  to  Robert  Lincoln  as  soon  as  the  funeral  is 
over,  as  I  consider  him  most  justly  entitled  to  them.  The 
same  mattress  is  on  my  bed,  and  the  same  coverlid  covers 
me  nightly  that  covered  him  while  dying.  Enclosed  you 
will  find  a  piece  of  lace  Mrs.  Lincoln  wore  on  her  head 
during  the  evening,  and  was  dropped  by  her  while  entering 
my  room  to  see  her  dying  husband;  it  is  worth  keeping 
for  its  historical  value.  The  cushions  worked  by  Clara, 
and  the  cushion  by  you,  you  little  dreamed  would  be  so 
historically  connected  with  such  an  event.  Love  to  father, 
mother,  Clara.  Don't  forget  you  have  a  brother,  and 
send  me  a  longer  note  soon. 

I  will  write  again  soon.      ,r          ™       ,      ,, 

Your  anec.  brother, 

WILLIE. 

Willie's  excellent  but  amusingly  "  important"  intentions 
about  the  bestowal  of  the  clothing  of  Mr.  Lincoln  and  the 
pillow-slip  on  which  his  dying  head  lay  were  not  destined 
to  fulfilment.  The  pillow-slips,  stained  with  Lincoln's 
blood,  were  at  last  accounts  still  in  the  Peterson  family, 
in  the  keeping  of  Mr.  Peterson's  son,  living  in  Baltimore. 
The  bedstead  on  which  Lincoln  died  was  sold  by  Mr. 


300  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Peterson  and  passed  eventually  into  the  possession  of  Mr. 
Charles  F.  Gunther  of  Chicago.  The  clothes  Mr.  Lincoln 
had  on  when  shot  were  sold  by  Forbes,  his  valet,  to  Mr. 
Frank  G.  Logan,  also  of  Chicago.  The  small  Deringer 
pistol  with  which  Lincoln  was  shot,  the  ball  which  entered 
his  brain,  the  small  section  of  skull  it  carried  with  it,  and 
the  probes  used  in  removing  ball  and  bone,  are  in  a  safe 
in  the  office  of  the  Judge-Advocate  General,  in  the  War 
Office,  Washington.  The  bar  of  wood  used  by  Booth  in 
barricading  the  door  is  in  a  chest  in  the  cellar  of  the  State, 
War,  and  Navy  Building,  along  with  the  knife  wherewith 
Major  Rathbone  was  slashed  and  a  lot  of  other  "  exhibits  " 
of  the  conspiracy  trial,  including  Booth's  saddle,  the  blue- 
and-black  checked  necktie  he  had  on  when  shot,  his  com 
pass  with  the  candle  drippings,  his  diary,  etc.  Here  and 
there  throughout  the  country  are  programmes  of  the  even 
ing  claimed  each  to  be  "the  one  the  President  was  holding 
when  shot."  None  of  these  is  authenticated.  The  flag  in 
which  Booth's  spur  caught  hangs  in  the  Treasury  Depart 
ment,  whence  it  was  borrowed.  Mr.  Charles  Ford,  of  Balti 
more,  has  the  portrait  of  Washington,  with  its  frame  gashed 
by  Booth's  spur,  which  hung  in  the  centre  of  the  Treasury 
regimental  flag  draping  the  front  of  the  box.  The  rocker 
in  which  Lincoln  sat  is  in  the  possession  of  the  Govern 
ment.  Mr.  Osborn  H.  Oldroyd  owns  the  spur  Booth  wore. 


APPENDIX  XXIII 

DESPATCHES  OF  THE  NIGHT 

AT  MIDNIGHT  Colonel  T.  T.  Eckert  wired  General 
Grant  en  route  between  Washington  and  Philadelphia: 
"The  President  was  assassinated  at  Ford's  Theatre  at 
10.20  to-night  and  cannot  live.  The  wound  is  a  pistol  shot 
through  the  head.  Secretary  Seward  and  his  son  Frede 
rick  were  also  assassinated  at  their  residence  and  are  in  a 
dangerous  condition.  The  Secretary  of  War  desires  that 
you  return  to  Washington  immediately.  Please  answer 
on  receipt  of  this."  Half  an  hour  later,  Dana  wired 
General  Grant  at  Philadelphia:  "Keep  a  close  watch  on 
all  persons  who  come  near  you."  At  1.30  Stan  ton  tele 
graphed  the  news  to  General  Dix  at  New  York,  still  speak 
ing  of  the  assassin  without  a  name.  At  3.20  he  telegraphed 
again  to  Dix  saying:  "Investigation  strongly  indicates 
John  Wilkes  Booth  as  assassin  of  the  President.  Whether 
he  was  at  Seward 's  is  unknown.  His  horse  has  been 
found."  At  4.10:  "It  is  now  ascertained  with  reasonable 
certainty  that  two  assassins  were  engaged  in  the  horrible 
crime,  Wilkes  Booth  being  the  one  that  shot  the  President, 

301 


302  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

the  other  a  companion  of  his  whose  name  is  not  known, 
but  whose  description  is  so  clear  that  he  can  hardly  escape." 
As  late  as  8.40  P.  M.  Saturday,  Dana  wired  to  Buffalo  a 
description  of  Booth  and  one  of  Atzerodt  who  was  then 
thought  to  have  been  the  assassin  of  Seward. 


APPENDIX  XXIV 

STATEMENT  OF  MR.  FIELD,  ASSISTANT  SECRETARY  OF 
THE    TREASURY 

ON  FRIDAY  evening,  April  14,  1865,  at  about  half-past 
ten  o'clock,  I  was  sitting  in  the  reading-room  at  WillarcTs 
Hotel,  engaged  with  a  newspaper,  when  a  person  hur 
riedly  entered  the  hotel  and  passed  up  the  hall,  announc 
ing  in  a  loud  tone  of  voice  that  the  President  had  just 
been  shot  at  Ford's  Theatre.  I  started  to  my  feet,  and 
had  hardly  reached  the  office  when  two  other  persons 
came  in  and  confirmed  the  report  —  which  at  first  I 
was  hardly  able  to  credit.  I  had  parted  about  fifteen 
minutes  previously  with  Mr.  Mellen,  of  the  Treasury 
Department,  who  had  retired  to  his  room  for  the  night, 
and  I  at  once  went  to  him  and  communicated  what  had 
occurred,  and  we  started  together  for  the  scene  of  the 
tragedy. 

We  found  the  streets  already  crowded  with  excited 
masses  of  people,  and  when  we  reached  the  theatre  there 
was  a  very  large  assemblage  in  front  of  it  as  well  as  of 
the  opposite  house,  belonging  to  Mr.  Peterson,  into 

303 


304  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

which  the  President  had  been  conveyed.  The  people 
around  the  theatre  related  to  us  substantially  the  general 
facts  connected  with  the  assassination  which  have  since 
been  communicated  to  the  public.  The  impression  was 
prevalent,  however,  at  that  time,  that  the  President  had 
been  shot  in  the  breast,  about  the  region  of  the  heart, 
and  that  the  wound  might  not  prove  fatal.  After  a  few 
minutes  we  crossed  the  street,  and  endeavoured  to  gain 
admission  into  the  house  where  Mr.  Lincoln  lay.  This 
I  effected  with  some  little  difficulty. 

The  first  person  whom  I  met  in  the  hall  was  Miss 
Harris,  daughter  of  United  States  Senator  Ira  Harris, 
of  New  York,  who  had  been  at  the  theatre  with  the  Pres 
idential  party.  She  informed  me  that  the  President 
was  dying,  but  desired  me  not  to  communicate  the  fact 
to  Mrs.  Lincoln,  who  was  in  the  front  parlour.  Several 
other  persons  who  were  there  confirmed  the  statement 
as  to  Mr.  Lincoln's  condition.  I  then  entered  the  front 
parlour,  where  I  found  Mrs.  Lincoln  in  an  indescribable 
state  of  agitation.  She  repeated  over  and  again.  "Why 
did  n't  he  kill  me  ?  Why  did  n't  he  kill  me  ?" 

I  asked  her  if  there  was  any  service  I  could  render 
her,  and  she  requested  me  to  go  for  Dr.  Stone,  or  some 
other  eminent  physician.  Both  Dr.  Stone  and  Surgeon- 
General  Barnes  had  already  been  sent  for,  but  neither 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  305 

had  yet  arrived.  On  my  way  out  I  met  Major  T.  T. 
Eckert,  of  the  War  Department,  who  told  me  that  he 
was  himself  going  for  Dr.  Stone.  I  then  went  for  Dr. 
Hall,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  surgeons  in  the 
District.  I  found  him  at  home,  and  he  at  once  accom 
panied  me.  When  we  again  reached  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  house  access  had  become  very  difficult,  guards 
having  been  stationed  on  every  side. 

After  much  effort,  I  was  enabled  to  gain  admission 
for  Dr.  Hall,  but  was  not  at  that  time  permitted  to  enter 
myself;  accordingly  I  returned  to  Willard's.  The  whole 
population  of  the  city  was  by  this  time  out,  and  all  kinds 
of  conflicting  stories  were  being  circulated.  At  three  or 
four  o'clock  I  again  started  for  Mr.  Peterson's  house. 
This  time  I  was  admitted  without  difficulty.  I  proceeded 
at  once  to  the  room  in  which  the  President  lay  dying. 
It  was  a  small  chamber,  in  an  extension  or  back  building, 
on  a  level  with  the  first  or  parlour  floor.  The  President 
was  lying  on  his  back,  diagonally  across  a  low,  double 
bedstead,  his  head  supported  by  two  pillows  on  the 
outer  side  of  the  bed. 

The  persons  in  the  room  were  the  Secretaries 
McCulloch,  Stanton,  Welles,  and  Harlan,  Postmaster- 
General  Dennison,  the  Attorney-General,  the  Assistant- 
Secretary  of  the  Interior,  Senator  Sumner  of  Massachu- 


306  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

setts,  General  Halleck,  General  Augur,  General  Meigs, 
General  J.  F.  Farnsworth,  of  Illinois;  General  Todd,  of 
Dakota;  the  President's  assistant  private  secretary, 
Major  Hay;  the  medical  gentlemen,  and  perhaps  two 
or  three  others.  Dr.  Stone  was  sitting  on  the  foot  of  the 
bed.  An  army  surgeon  was  sitting  opposite  the  Presi 
dent's  head,  occasionally  feeling  his  pulse,  and  applying 
his  fingers  to  the  arteries  of  the  neck  and  heart. 

Mr.  Lincoln  seemed  to  be  divested  of  all  clothing, 
except  the  bed  coverings.  His  eyes  were  closed,  and  the 
lids  and  surrounding  parts  so  injected  with  blood  as  to 
present  the  appearance  of  having  been  bruised.  He  was 
evidently  totally  unconscious,  and  was  breathing  regu 
larly  but  heavily,  and  with  an  occasional  sigh  escaping 
with  the  breath.  There  was  scarcely  a  dry  eye  in  the 
room,  and  the  scene  was  the  most  solemn  and  impressive 
one  I  ever  witnessed.  After  a  while,  Captain  Robert 
Lincoln,  of  General  Grant's  staff,  and  eldest  son  of  the 
President,  entered  the  chamber,  and  stood  at  the  head 
board,  leaning  over  his  father. 

For  a  time  his  grief  completely  overpowered  him,  but 
he  soon  recovered  himself,  and  behaved  in  the  most 
manly  manner  until  the  closing  of  the  scene.  As  the 
morning  wore  on,  the  condition  of  the  President 
remained  unchanged  until  about  seven  o'clock.  In  the 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  307 

meantime,  it  came  on  to  rain  heavily,  and  the  scene  from 
the  windows  was  in  dreary  sympathy  with  that  which 
was  going  on  within.  Just  before  this,  Mrs.  Lincoln 
had  been  supported  into  the  chamber,  and  had  thrown 
herself  moaning  upon  her  husband's  body.  She  was 
permitted  to  remain  but  a  few  minutes,  when  she  was 
carried  out,  in  an  almost  insensible  condition. 

At  about  seven  o'clock  the  President's  breathing 
changed  in  a  manner  to  indicate  that  death  was  rapidly 
approaching.  It  became  low  and  fitful,  with  frequent 
interruptions.  Several  times  I  thought  that  all  was  over, 
until  the  fitful  respiration  was  resumed.  At  last,  at  just 
twenty-two  minutes  past  seven  o'clock,  without  a  struggle, 
without  a  convulsive  movement,  without  a  tremor,  he 
ceased  breathing  —  and  was  no  more. 

Thus  died  this  great,  pure,  kind-hearted  man,  who 
never  willingly  injured  a  human  being  —  the  greatest 
martyr  to  liberty  the  world  has  ever  seen. 

Shortly  after  his  death,  finding  that  his  eyes  were  not 
entirely  closed,  I  placed  my  hands  upon  them.  One 
of  the  attendant  surgeons  first  put  nickel  cents  upon 
them,  and  then  substituted  silver  half-dollars.  It  was 
twenty  minutes  or  half  an  hour  before  the  body  commenced 
to  grow  cold.  The  lower  jaw  began  to  fall  slightly,  and 
the  lower  teeth  were  exposed.  One  of  the  medical 


308  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

gentlemen  bound  up  the  jaw  with  a  pocket-handker 
chief.  Mr.  Stanton  drew  down  the  window-shades, 
and  I  left  the  chamber  of  death.  Immediately  after  the 
decease,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Gurley  had  offered  up  a  fervent 
and  affecting  prayer  in  the  room,  interrupted  only  by 
the  sobs  of  those  present. 

When  I  left  the  room  he  was  again  praying  in  the 
front  parlour.  Poor  Mrs.  Lincoln's  moans  were  distress 
ing  to  listen  to.  After  the  prayer  was  over,  I  entered 
the  parlour,  and  found  Mrs.  Lincoln,  supported  in  the 
arms  of  her  son,  Robert.  She  was  soon  taken  to  her 
carriage.  As  she  reached  the  front  door,  she  glanced  at 
the  theatre  opposite,  and  exclaimed  several  times:  "Oh, 
that  dreadful  house !  That  dreadful  house ! ' '  Immediately 
thereafter  guards  were  stationed  at  the  door  of  the 
room  in  which  the  President's  body  lay.  In  a  few  minutes 
I  left  myself.  It  is  hoped  that  some  historical  painter 
will  be  found  capable  of  portraying  that  momentous 
death  scene. 


APPENDIX  XXV 

SOUTHERN  HORROR  OF  BOOTH'S  DEED 

SOUTHERN  horror  of  Booth's  deed  was  far  more  genuine 
and  more  widespread  than  many  persons  in  the  North 
were  aware  of.  On  April  16th,  General  R.  S.  Ewell  and 
sixteen  other  generals  of  the  Confederate  States  Army  in 
prison  at  Fort  Warren,  addressed  General  Grant  as 
follows : 

LIEUT.-GEN.  U.  S.  GRANT, 

Commanding  U.  S.  Army. 
GENERAL : 

You  will  appreciate,  I  am  sure,  the  sentiment  which 
prompts  me  to  drop  you  these  lines.  Of  all  the  mis 
fortunes  which  could  befall  the  Southern  people,  or  any 
Southern  man,  by  far  the  greatest,  in  my  judgment, 
would  be  the  prevalence  of  the  idea  that  they  could 
entertain  any  other  than  feelings  of  unqualified  abhor 
rence  and  indignation  for  the  assassination  of  the  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States  and  the  attempt  to  assassinate 
the  Secretary  of  State,"  etc.  (O.  R.  Series  I.,  vol. 
xlvi.,  part  in.,  p.  787.) 

The  Richmond  Whig,  of  April  17th,  said:  "The 
heaviest  blow  which  has  ever  fallen  on  the  people  of  the 

South  has  descended." 

309 


310  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

The  National  Intelligencer,  Washington,  reported  in 
its  issue  of  April  24th  that  "nearly  the  whole  city  of 
Memphis  was  draped  in  the  habiliments  of  mourning, 
and  the  sorrow  seemed  to  be  universal." 

In  Savannah,  Ga.,  a  great  mass-meeting  was  held  on 
April  22d  to  "take  fitting  notice  of  the  late  appalling 
calamity  which  has  befallen  the,  nation  in  the  death  of 
its  beloved  head,  Abraham  Lincoln."  And,  in  general, 
this  attitude  toward  Booth's  mad  deed  was  pretty  well 
shared. 

Mrs.  J.  A.  Hayes,  of  Colorado  Springs,  a  daughter  of 
Jefferson  Davis,  in  August,  1907,  wrote  a  letter  to  Gen 
eral  William  J.  Palmer,  in  the  course  of  which  she  said: 

I  was  a  small  child  at  the  time,  and,  like  most  Southern 
children,  I  looked  upon  Lincoln  as  the  arch-enemy  of  my 
country;  and,  thoughtlessly,  as  the  servants  and  guards 
around  us  were  rejoicing,  I  ran  to  my  father  with  what  I 
supposed  would  be  good  news  to  him.  He  gravely  and 
gently  took  me  in  his  arms  and  explained  to  me  that  this 
terrible  deed  had  been  done  by  a  crazy  man  who,  no  doubt, 
thought  he  was  the  saviour  of  the  South,  though  really  her 
very  worst  enemy.  My  father  added,  "Always  remember, 
my  little  daughter,  no  wrong  can  ever  make  a  right.  The 
South  does  not  wish  her  rights  to  come  through  dastardly 
murder,  but  through  fair  fight."  Then  he  sighed  deeply 
and  said :  "  This  is  the  bitterest  blow  that  could  have 
been  dealt  to  the  Southern  cause,  Lincoln  was  a  just 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  311 

man  and  would  have  been  fair  and  generous  in  his  treat 
ment  of  the  Southern  people;  his  successor  is  a  man  we 
can  expect  nothing  from." 

Lincoln,  who  knew  my  father  [would  have  known] 
.  .  .  that  Jefferson  Davis  and  the  other  Southern 
men  accused  were  incapable  of  instigating  murder.  .  .  . 
Jefferson  Davis  could  never  understand  how  such  an 
impression  could  have  gained  foothold  among  the  men  who 
made  history  in  the  North,  for  many  of  them  had  known 
him  and  should  have  known  that  he  was  above  so  vile  an 
action.  (World's  Work,  February,  1908,  p.  9902.) 


APPENDIX  XXVI 

THE    AWARDS 

ON  July  24th,  1866,  the  Committee  on  Claims, 
through  its  chairman,  Hon.  George  W.  Hotchkiss,  of 
Binghamton,  N.  Y.,  made  before  the  first  session  of 
the  39th  Congress  its  report  on  the  apportionment  of  the 
large  rewards  offered  for  the  capture  of  Booth,  Herold, 
Atzerodt,  and  Payne.  It  awarded  Colonel  Lafayette  C. 
Baker  and  Colonel  Everton  J.  Conger  each  $17,500  of 
the  $75,000  due  for  the  capture  of  Booth  and  Herold, 
but  so  strong  was  the  dissatisfaction  with  this  that  the 
report  was  disapproved  and  the  following  apportionment 
substituted: 

E.  J.  Conger,  detective $15,000 

Lafayette  C.  Baker,  detective  .  .  .  3,750 
Luther  B.  Baker,  detective  ....  3,000 
Edward  P.  Doherty,  in  command  of 

the  cavalry 5,250 

James  R.  O'Beirne,  detective  .  .  ,  2,000 
H.  H.  Wells,  George  Cottingham, 

Alexander  Lovett,  each  $1,000  .     .     .      3,000 
Sergeant  Boston  Corbett,  Sergeant  An 
drew  Wendell,  Corporal  Charles  Zim- 
312 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  313 

mer,  Corporal  Michael  Uniac,  Cor 
poral  John  Winter,  Corporal  Her 
man  Newgarten,  Corporal  John  Walz, 
Corporal  Oliver  Lonpay,  Corporal 
Michael  Hormsbey,  Privates  John 
Myers,  John  Ryan,  William  Byrne, 
Philip  Hoyt,  Martin  Kelley,  Henry 
Putnam,  Frank  McDaniel,  Lewis 
Savage,  Abraham  Genay,  Emery  Par- 
ady,  David  Baker,  William  Mc- 
Quade,  John  Millington,  Frederick 
Dietz,  John  H.  Singer,  Carl  Stein- 
brugge,  and  Joseph  Zisgen,  each 
$1,653.85  $43,000 


$75,000 

Wells  and  Lovett  were  among  the  officers  who  arrested 
Dr.  Mudd  and  got  from  him  information  about  the  visit 
and  departure  of  Booth  and  Herold.  Dana,  Williams, 
Gavacan,  and  Joshua  Lloyd  were  other  officers  in  the 
same  "capture,"  but  they  got  nothing.  Cottingham  was 
the  special  officer  of  Major  O'Beirne's  staff  to  whom, 
"through  strategy,"  John  M.  Lloyd  made  his  " con 
fession."  The  soldiers  were  all  of  the  26th  New  York 
Cavalry.  Major  O'Beirne  was  the  detective  to  whom 
the  credit  and  reward  for  the  capture  of  Booth  and 
Herold  should  really  have  gone.  (Baker,  p.  565;  Old- 
royd,  p.  87;  Report  No.  99,  39th  Congress.) 


314  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

For  the  capture  of  Atzerodt,  the  following  awards  were 
paid: 

Major  E.  R.  Artman,  215th  Pennsyl 
vania  Infantry  $1,250.00 

Sergeant  L.  W.  Gemmill,  1st  Dela 
ware  Cavalry 3,598.54 

Christopher  Ross,  David  H.  Baker, 
Albert  Bender,  Samuel  J.  Williams, 
George  W.  Young,  James  Long- 
acre,  privates  1st  Delaware,  and 
James  Purdoan,  citizen,  each 
$2,878.78  20,151.46 


$25,000.00 
Major  Artman  was  not  present  at  the  capture,  but  it 

was  he  who  sent  out  from  Monocacy  Junction,  Md.,  the 

force  which  effected  the  arrest. 

The  capture  of  Payne  was  rewarded  as  follows: 

Major  H.  W.  Smith $1,000 

Richard  C.  Morgan,  Eli  Devore,  Charles 
H.  Rosch,  Thomas  Sampson,  W.  M. 
Wermerskirch,  each  $500  ....  2,500 

J.  H.  Kimball,  citizen,  and  P.  H.  Clark, 

citizen,  each  $500 1,000 

Susan  Jackson,  Mary  Ann  Griffin,  col 
ored,  each,  $250 500 

$5,000 

Smith,  Morgan,  Devore,  Rosch,  Sampson,  and  Wer 
merskirch    were    the    officers    present.     Susan    Jackson 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  315 

was  a  servant  of  Mrs.  Surratt.  She  told  her  aunt,  Mary 
Ann  Griffin,  working  for  J.  H.  Kimball,  things  she  had 
seen  or  heard  that  might  incriminate  Mrs.  Surratt.  The 
two  women  told  Mr.  Kimball,  and  he  started  with  them 
for  General  Augur's  office.  On  the  way  they  met  P.  M. 
Clark  who  joined  the  expedition.  The  Government  paid 
$1,500  to  these  four  as  "instrumental  in  setting  the  force 
in  motion  for  taking  possession  of  the  Surratt  house." 
This,  although  it  had  claimed  to  have  done  this  on  the 
evidence  of  Captain  Gleason,  who  told  Stanton  what 
Weichmann  had  told  him. 


APPENDIX  XXVII 

TRIAL   ATTENDANCE 

"A  perfect  park  of  carriages  stands  by  the  door  to  the 
left,  and  from  these  dismount  major-generals'  wives  in 
rustling  silks,  daughters  of  congressmen  attired  like  the 
lilies  of  the  milliner,  little  girls  who  hope  to  be  young 
ladies  and  have  come  up  with  'Pa'  to  look  at  the  assas 
sins;  even  brides  are  here,  in  the  fresh  blush  of  their 
nuptials  .  .  .  they  chatter  and  smile  and  go  up  the 
three  flights  of  stairs  to  the  court-room,  about  as  large  as 
an  ordinary  town-house  parlour."  (George  Alfred  Town- 
send,  "The  Trial  of  the  Conspirators,"  p.  63.) 


316 


APPENDIX  XXVIII 


EDWARD  SPANGLER,  soon  after  his  release  from  prison, 
went  to  Dr.  Mudd's,  and  there  made  his  home  until  he 
died,  about  eighteen  months  later.  "He  was  a  quiet, 
genial  man,"  says  Miss  Nettie  Mudd,  the  doctor's  daugh 
ter  and  biographer,  "greatly  respected  by  the  members 
of  our  family  and  the  people  of  the  neighbourhood.  His 
greatest  pleasure  seemed  to  be  found  in  extending  kind 
nesses  to  others,  and  particularly  to  children,  of  whom 
he  was  very  fond.  Not  long  after  his  death  my  father, 
in  searching  for  a  tool  in  Spangler's  tool-chest,  found  a 
manuscript,  in  Spangler's  own  handwriting,  and  pre 
sumably  written  while  he  was  in  prison."  The  manu 
script  was  as  follows: 

I  was  born  in  York  County,  Penn.,  and  am  about 
forty- three  years  of  age.  I  am  a  house-carpenter  by 
trade,  and  became  acquainted  with  J.  Wilkes  Booth 
when  a  boy.  I  worked  for  his  father  in  building  a 
cottage  in  Harford  County,  Md.,  in  1854.  Since  A.  D. 
1853  I  have  done  carpenter  work  for  the  different  thea 
tres  in  the  cities  of  Baltimore  and  Washington,  to  wit: 

317 


318  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

The  Holliday  Street  Theatre  and  the  Front  Street  Theatre, 
of  Baltimore,  and  Ford's  Theatre  in  the  city  of  Washing 
ton.  I  have  acted  also  as  scene-shifter  in  all  the  above- 
named  theatres,  and  had  a  favourable  opportunity  to 
become  acquainted  with  the  different  actors.  I  have 
acted  as  scene-shifter  in  Ford's  Theatre  ever  since  it  was 
opened  up  to  the  night  of  the  assassination  of  President 
Lincoln.  During  the  winter  of  A.  D.  1862  and  1863 
J.  Wilkes  Booth  played  a  star  engagement  at  Ford's 
Theatre  for  two  weeks.  At  that  time  I  saw  him  and 
conversed  with  him  frequently.  After  completing  his 
engagement  he  left  Washington  and  I  did  not  see  him 
again  until  the  winters  of  A.  D.  1864  and  1865.  I  then 
saw  him  at  various  times  in  and  about  Ford's  Theatre. 
Booth  had  free  access  to  the  theatre  at  all  times,  and 
made  himself  very  familiar  with  all  persons  connected  with 
it.  He  had  a  stable  in  the  rear  of  the  theatre  where  he 
kept  his  horses.  A  boy,  Joseph  Burroughs,  commonly 
called  "Peanut  John,"  took  care  of  them  whenever  Booth 
was  absent  from  the  city.  I  looked  after  his  horses,  which 
I  did  at  his  request,  and  saw  that  they  were  properly  cared 
for.  Booth  promised  to  pay  me  for  my  trouble,  but  he 
never  did.  I  frequently  had  the  horses  exercised,  during 
Booth's  absence  from  the  city,  by  "Peanut  John,"  walking 
them  up  and  down  the  alley.  "Peanut  John"  kept  the 
key  to  the  stable  in  the  theatre,  hanging  upon  a  nail  behind 
the  small  door,  which  opened  into  the  alley  at  the  rear  of 
the  theatre.  Booth  usually  rode  out  on  horseback  every 
afternoon  and  evening,  but  seldom  remained  out  later  than 
eight  or  nine  o'clock.  He  always  went  and  returned  alone. 
I  never  knew  of  his  riding  out  on  horseback  and  staying 
out  all  night,  or  of  any  person  coming  to  the  stable  with 
him,  or  calling  there  for  him.  He  had  two  horses  at  the 
stable  only  a  short  time.  He  brought  them  there  some 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  319 

time  in  the  month  of  December.  A  man  called  George 
and  myself  repaired  and  fixed  the  stable  for  him.  I  usually 
saddled  the  horse  for  him  when  "Peanut  John"  was 
absent.  About  the  first  of  March,  Booth  brought  another 
horse  and  a  buggy  and  harness  to  the  stable,  but  in  what 
manner  I  do  not  know;  after  that  he  used  to  ride  out  with 
his  horse  and  buggy,  and  I  frequently  harnessed  them  up 
for  him.  I  never  saw  any  person  ride  out  with  him  or 
return  with  him  from  these  rides. 

On  the  Monday  evening  previous  to  the  assassination, 
Booth  requested  me  to  sell  the  horse,  harness,  and  buggy, 
as  he  said  he  should  leave  the  city  soon.  I  took  them  the 
next  morning  to  the  horse-market  and  had  them  put  up  at 
auction,  with  the  instruction  not  to  sell  unless  they  would 
net  two  hundred  and  sixty  dollars:  this  was  in  accordance 
with  Booth's  orders  to  me.  As  no  person  bid  sufficient 
to  make  them  net  that  amount,  they  were  not  sold,  and  I 
took  them  back  to  the  stable.  I  informed  Booth  of  the 
result  that  same  evening  in  front  of  the  theatre.  He 
replied  that  he  must  then  try  and  have  them  sold  at  private 
sale,  and  asked  me  if  I  would  help  him.  I  replied  "Yes." 
This  was  about  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  arid  the  conversa 
tion  took  place  in  the  presence  of  John  F.  Sleichmann  and 
others.  The  next  day  I  sold  them  for  two  hundred  and 
sixty  dollars.  The  purchaser  accompanied  me  to  the 
theatre.  Booth  was  not  in,  and  the  money  was  paid  to 
James  J.  Gifford,  who  receipted  for  it.  I  did  not  see 
Booth  to  speak  to  him,  after  the  sale,  until  the  evening  of 
the  assassination. 

Upon  the  afternoon  of  April  14th  I  was  told  by  "  Peanut 
John"  that  the  President  and  General  Grant  were  coming 
to  the  theatre  that  night,  and  that  I  must  take  out  the 
partition  in  the  President's  box.  I  was  assisted  in  doing  it 
by  Ritterspaugh  and  "Peanut  John." 


320  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

In  the  evening,  between  five  and  six  o'clock,  Booth  came 
into  the  theatre  and  asked  me  for  a  halter.  I  was  very 
busy  at  work  at  the  time  on  the  stage  preparatory  to  the 
evening  performance,  and  Ritterspaugh  went  upstairs 
and  brought  one  down.  I  went  out  to  the  stable  with 
Booth  and  put  the  halter  upon  the  horse.  I  commenced 
to  take  off  the  saddle  when  Booth  said:  " Never  mind,  I 
do  not  want  it  off,  but  let  it  and  the  bridle  remain."  He 
afterward  took  the  saddle  off  himself,  locked  the  stable, 
and  went  back  to  the  theatre. 

Booth,  Maddox,  " Peanut  John,"  and  myself  imme 
diately  went  out  of  the  theatre  to  the  adjoining  restau 
rant  next  door,  and  took  a  drink  at  Booth's  expense.  I 
then  went  immediately  back  to  the  theatre,  and  Ritters 
paugh  and  myself  went  to  supper.  I  did  not  see  Booth 
again  until  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock.  About  that  time 
Debonay  called  to  me,  and  said  that  Booth  wanted  me  to 
hold  his  horse  as  soon  as  I  could  be  spared.  I  went  to  the 
back  door  and  Booth  was  standing  in  the  alley  holding  a 
horse  by  the  bridle-rein,  and  requested  me  to  held  it.  I 
took  the  rein,  but  told  him  I  could  not  remain,  as  Gifford 
was  gone,  and  that  all  of  the  responsibility  rested  on  me. 
Booth  then  passed  into  the  theatre.  I  called  to  Debonay 
to  send  "Peanut  John"  to  hold  the  horse.  He  came,  and 
took  the  horse,  and  I  went  back  to  my  proper  place. 

In  about  a  half  hour  afterward  I  heard  a  shot  fired,  and 
immediately  saw  a  man  run  across  the  stage.  I  saw  him 
as  he  passed  by  the  centre  door  of  the  scenery,  behind  which 
I  then  stood;  this  door  is  usually  termed  the  centre  cham 
ber  door.  I  did  not  recognize  the  man  as  he  crossed  the 
stage  as  being  Booth.  I  then  heard  some  one  say  that  the 
President  was  shot.  Immediately  all  was  confusion.  I 
shoved  the  scenes  back  as  quickly  as  possible  in  order  to 
clear  the  stage,  as  many  were  rushing  upon  it.  I  was  very 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  321 

much  frightened,  as  I  heard  persons  halloo  "Burn  the 
theatre!"  I  did  not  see  Booth  pass  out;  my  situation 
was  such  that  I  could  not  see  any  person  pass  out  of  the 
back  door.  The  back  door  has  a  spring  attached  to  it, 
and  would  shut  of  its  own  accord.  I  usually  slept  in 
the  theatre,  but  I  did  not  upon  the  night  of  the  assassina 
tion;  I  was  afraid  the  theatre  would  be  burned,  and  slept 
in  a  carpenter's  shop  adjoining. 

I  never  heard  Booth  express  himself  in  favour  of  the 
rebellion,  or  opposed  to  the  Government,  or  converse  upon 
political  subjects;  and  I  have  no  recollection  of  his  men 
tioning  the  name  of  President  Lincoln  in  any  connection 
whatever.  I  know  nothing  of  the  mortise  hole  said  to  be 
in  the  wall  behind  tne  door  of  the  President's  box,  or  of 
any  wooden  bar  to  fasten  or  hold  the  door  there,  or  of  the 
lock  being  out  of  order.  I  did  not  notice  any  hole  in  the 
door.  Gifford  usually  attended  to  the  carpentering  in  the 
front  part  of  the  theatre,  while  I  did  the  work  about  the 
stage.  Mr.  Gifford  was  the  boss  carpenter,  and  I  was 
under  him. 


APPENDIX  XXIX 

MRS.  SURRATT  AND  JOHN  NOTHEY 

ON  THE  twelfth  of  April,  1865,  George  H.  Calvert,  Jr.,  a 
resident  of  Bladensburg,  Md.,  wrote  to  Mrs.  Mary  E. 
Surratt  as  follows : 

RIVERSDALE,  April  12,  1865. 
MRS.  M.  E.  SURRATT: 

Dear  Madam:  During  a  late  visit  to  the  lower  portion 
of  the  county,  I  ascertained  of  the  willingness  of  Mr. 
Nothey  to  settle  with  you,  and  desire  to  call  your  attention 
to  the  fact,  in  urging  the  settlement  of  the  claim  of  my  late 
father's  estate.  However  unpleasant,  I  must  insist  upon 
closing  up  this  matter,  as  it  is  imperative,  in  an  early  settle 
ment  of  the  estate,  which  is  necessary. 

You  will,  therefore,  please  inform  me  at  your  earliest 
convenience,  as  to  how  and  when  you  will  be  able  to  pay 
the  balance  remaining  due  on  the  land  purchased  by  your 
late  husband. 

I  am,  dear  madam,  yours  respectfully, 
(C.  T.  p.  126.)  GEORGE  H.  CALVERT,  JR. 

This  was  the  letter  which  took  Mrs.  Surratt  to  Surratts- 
ville  on  April  14th.  While  there  she  wrote  a  letter  to  Mr. 
John  Nothey  and  gave  it  to  Mr.  B.  F.  Gwynn,  a  neighbour 
who  had  been  privy  to  the  transaction  between  the  late 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  323 

John  Surratt  and  John  No  they,  asking  Mr.  Gwynn  to 
deliver  the  note  to  Nothey  and  to  read  it  to  him.  (C.  T.  p. 
126.)  This  Mr.  Gwynn  did.  The  note  read: 

SURRATTSVILLE,  MD.,  April  14, 1865. 
MR.  JOHN  NOTHEY: 

Sir:  I  have  this  day  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Calvert, 
intimating  that  either  you  or  your  friend  have  represented 
to  him  that  I  am  not  willing  to  settle  with  you  for  the  land. 

You  know  that  I  am  ready,  and  have  been  waiting  for 
the  last  two  years;  and  now,  if  you  do  not  come  within  the 
next  ten  days,  I  will  settle  with  Mr.  Calvert,  and  bring  suit 
against  you  immediately. 

Mr.  Calvert  will  give  you  a  deed  on  receiving  payment. 

M.  E.  SURRATT, 
(C.  T.  p.  126.)  Administratrix  of  J  H.  Surratt. 

These  letters  were  produced  as  proof  of  the  errand  that 
called  her  to  Surrattsville  on  Good  Friday  afternoon,  but 
it  was  considered  reasonable  to  adjudge  the  letters  attempts 
to  prove  an  excuse  for  going  —  the  real  reason  being  that 
she  wished  to  carry  a  pair  of  field-glasses  for  Booth,  and  to 
tell  the  drunken  Lloyd  to  have  the  carbines  ready.  It 
seems  far  likelier  that  if  she  were  implicated  in  the  plot  she 
would  have  refused  to  go  near  Surrattsville  that  day. 


APPENDIX  XXX 

JOHN  P.  BROPHY 

MRS.  SURRATT'S  last  words  were  to  John  P.  Brophy  to 
whom  she  said:  "Good-bye  —  take  care  of  Annie."  On 
the  sixth  of  January,  1908,  Mr.  Brophy,  formerly  a  profes 
sor  in  Gonzaga  College,  Washington,  and  then  a  clerk  in 
the  Supreme  Court,  gave  an  address  before  the  Friendly 
Sons  of  St.  Patrick,  at  Delmonico's,  New  York. 

"His  subject  was  the  assassination  of  President  Lincoln, 
with  especial  reference  to  the  accusation  brought  against 
Mrs.  Mary  E.  Surratt  and  her  subsequent  execution.  Mr. 
Brophy  was  acquainted  with  several  of  the  actors  in  the 
tragedy  and  its  accompanying  incidents,  and  was  one  of 
those  who  made  an  attempt  to  intercede  on  behalf  of  Mrs. 
Surratt. 

"  Mr.  Brophy  related  at  length  the  conception  of  the  plot 
against  Lincoln  and  the  failure  of  the  conspirators  to  carry 
out  their  first  plan  of  kidnapping.  The  speaker  told  of 
Booth's  meeting  with  John  H.  Surratt,  Mrs.  Surratt's  son, 
and  of  the  boy's  joining  in  the  first  conspiracy  to  kidnap 
Lincoln.  Mrs.  Surratt,  he  said,  knew  nothing  of  it. 
Booth,  happening  to  meet  her  as  she  was  being  handed  into 
her  carriage,  and  having  already  decided  to  kill  Lincoln, 
instead  of  further  pursuing  the  old  plan  to  kidnap  the 
President,  asked  her  to  take  a  package,  which  he  said 

324 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  325 

contained  a  compass,  and  leave  it  for  him  at  a  certain  hotel 
on  her  way.  She  willingly  consented  to  do  what  seemed 
to  her  a  trifling  favour,  and  this  act,  innocent  as  it  seemed, 
cost  her  her  life. 

"Her  death,  Mr.  Brophy  said,  came  about  through  the 
perjured  statements  of  conspirator  Lloyd,  whom  the 
speaker  characterized  as  a  '  drunken  sot/  through  the  work 
of  an  'unlawful  military  tribunal,'  and  the  'usurpation* 
of  judicial  power. 

"When  the  trial  was  near  its  end,  Mr.  Brophy  said,  Louis 
J.  Weichmann,  who  had  been  the  chief  witness  against  her, 
came  to  Mr.  Brophy  and  wanted  to  know  what  the  effect 
of  his  testimony  had  been.  Mr.  Brophy  accused  him  of 
attempting  to  have  an  innocent  woman  killed,  and  Weich 
mann  acknowledged  to  Mr.  Brophy  that  he  believed  Mrs. 
Surratt  to  be  innocent. 

"  '  Some  time  last  winter/  Mr.  Brophy  quotes  the  man  as 
saying, '  I  suspected  the  plot  against  the  President.  I  told 
a  clerk  in  the  War  Department,  and  he  informed  Stanton. 
Stanton  gave  me  the  choice  between  turning  State's 
evidence  and  hanging.  Terrified,  I  told  what  I  had  heard, 
and,  although  I  believed  Mrs.  Surratt  to  be  innocent,  Mr. 
Stanton  appeared  to  believe  her  guilty.  I  did  not  want  to 
be  hanged.' 

"Mr.  Brophy  told  Weichmann  that  he  ought  to  try  to 
avert  the  result  of  his  testimony  by  telling  the  truth  to  Mr. 
Stanton.  Weichmann  replied  that  Stanton's  hatred  of 
Catholics  and  of  Southern  women  would  be  Mrs.  Surratt's 
undoing,  and  that  he  could  do  nothing  to  help  her.  Mr. 
Brophy  went  to  the  White  House,  but  was  not  allowed  to 
see  President  Johnson.  Judge  Holt  would  not  let  Mr. 
Brophy  appear  as  a  witness. 

"The  professor,  failing  to  reach  official  ears,  tried  to 
publish  what  he  had  learned  from  Weichmann  in  the 


326  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

National  Intelligencer,  of  Washington,  he  says,  but  was 
told  that  the  article  was  'too  strong/  Finally  he  pub 
lished  it  in  a  pamphlet,  and  the  morning  after,  before  he 
was  up,  his  room  was  searched  by  Government  detectives, 
but  the  pamphlets  had  all  been  sent  out,  and  nothing  was 
found  to  incriminate  him. 

"  Mr.  Brophy  told  his  hearers  that  all  through  the  trial 
and  the  execution  of  Mrs.  Surratt,  papers  proving  her 
innocence  were  hidden  in  Stanton's  safe.  These  papers 
included  Booth's  diary,  which  explained  all  the  phases  of 
the  situation.  He  said  that  Stanton  and  Holt  also  knew 
that  young  Surratt  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  assas 
sination. 

"Mr.  Brophy  quoted  from  a  conversation  which  he  had 
had  with  Chief  Baker,  of  the  Government  detective  bureau, 
in  which  he  said  that  Baker  asserted  that  Stanton  and  Holt 
were  both  so  bigoted  by  nature  that  they  stood  ready  to 
convict  any  Catholic  on  whom  suspicion  might  for  any 
cause  fall. 

"The  speaker  told  of  his  effort  to  save  Mrs.  Surratt 
through  his  own  affidavit,  and  after  his  being  put  out  of 
the  White  House  by  soldiers  by  order  of  United  States 
Senators  Preston  King,  of  Albany,  and  Lane,  of  Kansas. 
He  said  that  Mrs.  Surratt's  father  confessor,  who  called  at 
the  White  House  after  that,  with  the  doomed  woman's 
daughter,  Anna,  were  also  driven  away  by  the  soldiers. 
Then  Mrs.  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  he  said,  tried,  and 
although  she  pushed  past  the  soldiers  and  saw  the  Presi 
dent,  accomplished  nothing."  (Washington  Post,  Janu 
ary  7,  1908.) 


APPENDIX  XXXI 

THE   HOLT-JOHNSON  CONTROVERSY 

THE  petition  to  the  President  for  clemency  to  Mrs. 
Surratt  read  as  follows: 

"To  the  President:  The  undersigned,  members  of  the 
Military  Commission  appointed  to  try  the  persons  charged 
with  the  murder  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  etc.,  respectfully 
represent  that  the  commission  have  been  constrained  to 
find  Mary  E.  Surratt  guilty,  upon  the  testimony,  of  the 
assassination  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  late  President  of  the 
United  States,  and  to  pronounce  upon  her,  as  required  by 
law,  the  sentence  of  death;  but  in  consideration  of  her  age 
and  sex,  the  undersigned  pray  your  Excellency,  if  it  is 
consistent  with  your  sense  of  duty,  to  commute  her  sen 
tence  to  imprisonment  for  life  in  the  penitentiary." 

On  February  llth,  when  the  Holt- Johnson  controversy 
was  raging  at  its  bitterest,  Judge  Holt  wrote  to  Hon.  John 
A.  Bingham,  one  of  his  special  Assistant- Judge- Advocates 
during  the  Conspiracy  Trial,  saying  that  he  had  personally 
presented  the  record  of  the  trial  and  the  findings  of  the 
Commission  to  the  President,  and  called  his  attention  to  the 
recommendation  for  clemency,  "and  he  read  it  in  my 
presence."  ("The  Assassination  of  Lincoln,"  by  T.  M. 

327 


328  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

Harris,  p.  408.)     As  this  left  only  Holt's  word  against 
Johnson's,  Holt  was  anxious  to  get  the  statement  of  some 
one  else  who  knew  that  Johnson  had  seen  and  refused  the 
plea.     Judge   Bingham  replied   that  he  had  called  the 
attention  of  Stan  ton  to  the  recommendation  for  mercy, 
and  that  after  Johnson  denied  having  seen  it,  he  (Bingham) 
called  at  Holt's  office  and  asked  for  the  papers  in  the  case, 
finding  the  petition  of  the  five  commissioners  attached. 
He  also  asked  Secretaries  Stanton   and  Seward   if  this 
petition  had  been  presented  to  the  President,  and  they  said 
it  had  been  duly  considered  by  him  and  his  advisers  before 
the     death-sentence    of    Mrs.    Surratt     was     approved. 
Stanton  refused,  however,  to  let  Bingham  make  this  state 
ment  public.     Attorney-General  Speed  wrote   to   Judge 
Holt  in  March,  1873,  that  he  had  seen  the  record  of  the 
Conspiracy  Trial  in  the  President's  office,  and  the  petition 
of  the  five  commissioners  was  attached  to  it.     But  Mr. 
Speed  would  not  say  if  the  matter  was  discussed  in  Cabinet 
meeting.     Hon.  James  Harlan  remembered  hearing  the 
plea  for  clemency  discussed  by  members  of  the  Cabinet 
in  the  presence  of  President  Johnson,  not  in  regular  meet 
ing,  but  when  there  were  "not  more  than  three  or  four 
members  present  —  Mr.  Seward,  Mr.  Stanton,  and  myself, 
and  probably  Attorney-General  Speed  and  others  —  but  I 
distinctly   remember   only   the   first   two."     He   said   he 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  329 

heard  "one  of  these  eminent  statesmen"  urge  upon  the 
President  that  clemency  in  this  case  "would  amount  to  an 
invitation  to  assassins  hereafter  to  employ  women  as  their 
instruments."  (Harris,  p.  409.) 

General  Mussey,  Johnson's  private  secretary,  remem 
bered  that  on  Wednesday  morning,  July  5th,  the  President 
told  him  he  "was  going  to  look  over  the  findings  of  the 
court  with  Judge  Holt,  and  should  be  busy  and  could  see 
no  one."  When,  two  or  three  hours  later,  Johnson  told 
his  secretary  he  had  approved  the  sentences  and  ordered 
the  execution  for  Friday,  General  Mussey  asked  him  if  that 
was  n't  a  very  short  time  to  give  the  condemned  for  prep 
aration.  "He  admitted  that  it  was,  but  said  that  they 
had  had  ever  since  the  trial  began  for  'preparation';  and 
either  then  or  later  on  in  the  day  spoke  of  his  design  in  mak 
ing  the  time  short,  so  that  there  might  be  less  opportunity 
for  criticism,  remonstrance,  etc."  General  Mussey  was 
sure  (August  19,  1873  —  Harris,  p.  410)  that  Johnson 
told  him  of  the  recommendation  for  mercy,  but  said  that 
sex  was  no  proper  plea  and  "there  had  not  been  women 
enough  hanged  in  this  war."  General  Henry  L.  Burnett, 
with  John  A.  Bingham,  Assistant-Judge-Advocate  for  the 
trial,  attached  the  recommendation  for  mercy  to  the  trial 
records  and  the  findings  of  the  court,  and  himself  carried 
them  to  Judge  Holt.  On  the  fifth  of  July  he  happened  to 


330  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

be  in  Stanton's  office  when  Judge  Holt  came  in,  and 
remarked  that  he  was  just  come  from  going  over  the  find 
ings  with  the  President.  "What  did  he  say  about  the 
recommendation  to  mercy  of  Mrs.  Surratt?"  Stan  ton 
asked,  and  Judge  Holt  repeated  as  the  President's  opinion 
what  James  Harlan  heard  "one  of  the  eminent  statesmen" 
of  the  Cabinet  urge  on  him. 

General  Henry  L.  Burnett,  at  a  meeting  of  the  New  York 
State  Commandery  of  the  Loyal  Legion,  April  3,  1889, 
delivered  a  lengthy  address  in  Judge  Holt's  behalf  from 
which  all  the  above  excerpts  have  been  taken.  In  the 
Century  Magazine  for  April,  1890,  the  Hon.  Horatio  King 
went  over  much  the  same  ground,  pleading  Holt's  inno 
cence  of  Johnson's  charges.  In  this  article  he  quotes 
General  Mussey  as  saying  of  Judge  Holt's  call  at  the  White 
House  on  the  morning  of  the  execution,  when  Miss  Surratt 
was  there  pleading  to  see  the  President,  who  had  just  over 
ruled  the  habeas  corpus  plea:  "I  shall  never  lose  the 
impression  made  upon  me  of  your  (General  Holt's)  deep 
pity  for  her  (Miss  Surratt)  and  of  the  pain  which  her 
distress  caused  you."  The  North  American  Review  for 
July,  1888,  also  contains  a  statement  of  Holt's  case  pre 
sented  in  his  own  pleading  with  Mr.  Speed  to  speak  the 
word  that  would  shatter  Johnson's  accusation.  Stan  ton 
and  Seward  were  then  voiceless  in  the  grave;  only  Speed 


THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN  331 

could  lift  the  cloud  from  Holt's  name.  But  though  he 
replied  most  affectionately  to  Holt's  pleadings,  he  would 
not  give  the  lie  to  Johnson.  Stan  ton  said  Holt  must 
"rely  upon  the  final  judgment  of  the  people,"  and  by  this 
final  judgment,  it  is  safe  to  say,  Holt  is  vindicated  of  the 
charge  of  keeping  back  the  plea  for  mercy.  He  still 
stands,  however,  accused  of  the  crime  of  coaching  per 
jurers  to  swear  to  the  complicity  of  Jefferson  Davis  and  the 
Southern  leaders. 


APPENDIX  XXXII 


JOHNSON  S  ORDER  FOR  EXECUTION   OF  PAYNE,    ATZERODT, 
HEROLD,  AND  MRS.  SURRATT 

THE  sentences  of  the  eight  prisoners  were  submitted  to 
the  President  on  July  6th,  by  him  approved,  and  that  same 
day  an  order  was  issued  from  the  Adjutant- General's 
office  to  General  Hancock,  commanding  him  to  ''cause  the 
foregoing  sentences  in  the  cases  of  David  E.  Herold, 
G.  A.  Atzerodt,  Lewis  Payne,  and  Mary  E.  Surratt,  to  be 
duly  executed,  in  accordance  with  the  President's  order." 
(C.  T.  p.  429.)  The  President's  order  was  as  follows: 

EXECUTIVE  MANSION,  July  5,  1865. 

The  foregoing  sentences  in  the  cases  of  David  E.  Herold, 
G.  A.  Atzerodt,  Lewis  Payne,  Michael  O'Laughlin, 
Edward  Spangler,  Samuel  Arnold,  Mary  E.  Surratt,  and 
Samuel  A.  Mudd,  are  hereby  approved,  and  it  is  ordered 
that  the  sentences  of  said  David  E.  Herold,  G.  A.  Atzerodt, 
Lewis  Payne,  and  Mary  E.  Surratt  be  carried  into  execu 
tion  by  the  proper  military  authority,  under  the  direction  of 
the  Secretary  of  War,  on  the  seventh  day  of  July,  1865, 
between  the  hours  of  ten  o'clock  A.  M.  and  two  o'clock  P.  M. 
of  that  day. 

(C.  T.  p.  249.)  ANDREW  JOHNSON,  President. 


332 


APPENDIX  XXXIII 


JOHNSON'S  REMARK  ABOUT  "THE  NEST  THAT  HATCHED 


JOHNSON'S  oft-quoted  remark  about  Mrs.  Surratt,  given 
as  his  excuse  for  refusing  to  commute  her  sentence  "  She 
kept  the  nest  that  hatched  the  egg,"  was  made  on  the  eve 
ning  of  July  7, 1865,  to  Dr.  Butler,  who  was  at  the  White 
House  by  appointment  with  some  Tennessee  ladies  who 
were  old  friends  of  the  Johnsons.  There  is  a  story  to  the 
effect  that  Johnson  put  himself,  after  signing  the  death- 
warrant,  beyond  all  appeals  for  mercy  by  becoming 
insensibly  drunk.  Dr.  Butler  says  that  if  he  was 
drunk  between  Wednesday  afternoon  and  Friday  even 
ing,  he  was  certainly  sober  at  the  latter  time.  Know 
ing  Dr.  Butler  to  have  been  on  the  scaffold  with  Atzerodt, 
President  Johnson  asked  him  some  questions  about  the 
hanging,  and  speaking  of  Mrs.  Surratt  expressed  himself 
as  above. 

Night-clerk  Burton  of  the  National  Hotel  says  that  at 
one  time  during  the  winter  of  '64-'6o  John  Booth  asked 
him  for  a  room  in  the  hotel  to  "hold  a  small  meeting  in," 

333 


334  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

and  Burton  told  him  he  could  have  it.  But  Booth  went 
elsewhere  with  his  meeting  —  to  the  Lichau  House, 
probably  —  and  Mr.  Burton  was  saved  from  hanging,  he 
thinks,  on  the  same  charge  of  "nest-keeping"  that  cost 
Mrs.  Surratt  her  life. 


APPENDIX  XXXIV 

JOHNSON'S  DENIAL  OF  HABEAS  CORPUS  WRIT  TO 
MRS.  SURRATT 

ON  FRIDAY  morning  the  counsel  for  Mary  E.  Surratt 
petitioned  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  District  of  Columbia 
for  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus,  urging  the  illegality  of  her 
trial  and  sentence  by  a  military  commission  and  the 
consequent  illegality  of  her  detention  by  General  Hancock 
for  execution.  At  11.30  Friday  morning,  while  the  peni 
tentiary  yard  was  full  of  waiting  spectators,  General 
Hancock,  accompanied  by  Attorney-General  Speed, 
appeared  before  Judge  Wylie  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
District,  and  made  the  return  plea  that  the  body  of  Mary 
E.  Surratt  was  in  his  possession  "  under  and  by  virtue  of 
an  order"  of  the  President,  and  "I  do  not  produce  said 
body  by  reason  of  the  order  of  the  President."  The  order 
was  as  follows: 

EXECUTIVE  OFFICE,  July,  7,  1865,  10  A.M. 

To  MAJOR-GENERAL  W.  S.  HANCOCK,  Commander,  etc.: 

I,  Andrew  Johnson,  President  of  the  United  States,  do 

hereby  declare  that  the  writ  of  habeas  corpus  has  been 

heretofore  suspended  in  such  cases  as  this,  and  I  do  hereby 

335 


336  THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN 

especially  suspend  this  writ,  and  direct  that  you  proceed 
to  execute  the  order  heretofore  given  you  upon  the  judg 
ment  of  the  Military  Commission,  and  you  will  give  this 
order  in  return  to  the  writ. 

ANDREW  JOHNSON,  President. 

The  Supreme  Court  of  the  District  ruled  that  it  yielded 
to  the  suspension  of  the  writ  of  habeas  corpus  by  the  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States ;  and  General  Hancock  proceeded 
to  the  Arsenal  to  order  the  execution. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN     INITIAL     FINE     OF    25    CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  5O  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


SEP  17  193* 
SEP  18  1933 


HOV 


15  1937 

NOV     7    1937 
JUN  20  1939 

OCT  7  1941  A. 


NOV  4  '-94!  K 

- 

FEB  23  1942 

20iWar'3Svw 


HAY  17 1963 


LD  21-50m-l,'33 


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225239 


